#// I think Google translate can translate text on pictures now so feel free to try it if you need to read anything from the comics; etc.

[mythos-writes]

My Ferrari

Toto Wolff x Ferrari principal (wife) reader

Plot: Toto and his wife use the grid as ponds in their plans to mess with each other... inspired by @pucksandpower Social Media AU cause I think it's so cute

Formula 1 Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning: fluffy moments, Lewis and Charles getting 'kidnapped', google translated german + italian,

Lewis was walking by the Ferarri paddock, minding his business and preparing for free practice. His music playing in his AirPods, when he heard a voice trying to get his attention.

“Lewis!” a voice gets his attention. He takes out a bud and looks around. He sees (Y/N) Wolff running up to him.

“Hey, (Y/N), what can I do for you?” He asks, still clueless about her plans.

“I want to play with Toto a little, and I need your help,” she explains but keeps it vague.

“Ok, with what?” he asks, not noticing Charles and Carlos coming up behind him.

“GET HIM!” she yells. Lewis feels arms around him, and him leaving the ground. “What are you going?!” he says, trying to not giggle because he knows he won’t get hurt.

“You are going to be my ransom against your famous principal,” She says with a smile. They take him into the garage and to (Y/N)’s office. They place him on a folding chair and tie him up in some take they had found in the garage.

All Lewis could do is give (Y/N) a ‘why do you have to drag me into this’ look. Once the two drivers finished tapping up the other driver, they were giggling like toddlers getting a pass for bad behaviour. “Thanks’ you two, you guys are good to go,” she tells her drivers.

“(Y/N) what is all this for?” Lewis questions, knowing she couldn’t hide things from him. [Things that were non-racing related] 

“I know your season hasn’t been the best, and I just wanted to have some fun. Even though we’re rivals, we’re also family and it hurts seeing Toto come off a race and just look frustrated and sad. So I’m trying to just have some fun,” she tells.

“ I appreciate that you’re trying to cheer him up…BUT… why do you have to drag me into this?” he questions, pulling at the tap a little. 

“Oh, because you’re his golden child, and it would be easier to get Carlos and Charles to carry you than George,” she says while pulling her phone out. “And don’t worry, you’ll be out of the tap, just as soon as I get a picture, to send to Toto,” she states while getting a few pictures. 

"Perfect, now I'm going to take the tap off, but you can't return to the Mercedes paddock just yet," she states. Lewis moves to the couch and lays out. "Yeah, I figured as much."

Toto was walking around the Paddock, looking for Lewis. He wasn’t in his driver's room, and he wasn’t with Roscoe, cause Angela took the pup on his paddock walk. He asked George and the other team members but hadn’t seen him. His phone pings, as he gets a series of texts. He sees his wife's name pop up and he feels a smile grow. But when he opens the texts, he tries not to laugh. 

He is greeted with a photo of Lewis tied up with a nervous face on. The text that followed almost made him laugh...

Toto, I have in my possession I have your precious 7-time champion. If you want him back before free practice, you must meet my demands. If you bring yourself and some food from your catering to your dear wife. Then you’ll leave with your precious driver. If not met, Lewis will become a Ferarri driver

Toto looks up and he see’s Goerge talking to Alex Albon just outside of the paddock. He waived the two over. 

“What can we do for you boos man?” Alex asks. 

“Well you two, I had a job for you…”

Charles was getting ready for the practice and he was doing his normal pre-race routine. Because of this, he didn’t hear George or Alex sneak up behind him. George grabbed his hands and Alex grabbed his legs, and they started to carry him off to the Mercedes paddock. 

“What are you two doing?!” Charles asks, he is confused about why he is being dragged into this. Before they could answer, Ted Kravitz spotted the ‘kidnapping’ of Charles  Leclerc. 

“We have just spotted Alex Albon and George Russell carrying Ferarri’s Charles Leclerc. George what is going on here?” he asks. 

“We’re just working orders by the boss,” he replies as they walk into the garage. 

By now, (Y/N) had untapped Lewis, and he was just chilling out in her office. Her phone pinged, notifying her that she had gotten a text. When she opened it, she was shocked to be greeted by a picture of Charles, tapped up just like how they had Lewis. A text followed the picture that read… 

Two can play this game, Liebe. If you want your driver back, I suggest we make a truce and do a driver swap on neutral ground… in front of the McLaren paddock in 20 minutes. If you can’t meet these requirements, Charles will become the newest Mercedes driver this weekend... Also, bring some of Ferarri's catering coffee, you know how I like my coffee

She showed Lewis the texts, and he just started giggling at Charles's face. The two looked at each other, knowing the fun and games were coming to an end. 

“Well, it looks like we need to stop at the coffee booth before we meet my dearest husband,” (Y/N) comments before getting ready to meet the Meracdes principal. 

The end of the 20 minutes was closely approaching, and by now, the whole grid and paddocks knew what was happening between the two teams. So when they saw Toto standing with George and Charles, at one end, outside of the entrance of McLaren’s paddock. The other racers and team principals were standing outside, waiting for the Ferarri principal and the famous Mercedes driver.

“There they are,” someone yells out. Everyone looked up and saw the people of the hour come walking over, with a minute to spare. (Y/N), Carlos and Lewis stop and face off with Toto, George and Charles.

“Do you have what I asked for?” she yells across, they’re about 2 meters apart. Toto raised a bag, that was filled with her favourites from catering.

“And you?” he questions. She holds up the cup of coffee, made how he likes it. He walks closer, signalling she walks towards him. They meet in the middle and hand off their trades. 

“Pleasure doing business with you, amore,” she says with a smile. Toto rolls his eyes, but he found this whole thing amusing. He brought her into a hug, causing the grid to burst out into comedic cheers.  

“Come find me before heading back to the hotel,” he whispers in her ear. She nods.

“Does this mean we can go back to our teams now?!” Lewis yells. The two laugh at the driver’s antics. 

“Yes, you can go back Lewis,” she says as the two drivers swap back to their right teams.

“May the best team win,” he says with his cheeky smile. “May the best team win,” she replies with the same smile. The FIA marshals come by and dismiss everyone, as free practice was about to start.

After free practice and they had their debriefs, (Y/N) made her way to the Mercedes paddock. She was ready for the qualifying race tomorrow. She notified some of the Mercedes crew to let Toto know that she was there. As she waited for him, she ended up finishing some last-minute emails on her phone.

“ Geez, and they call me a workaholic,” Toto’s voice breaks her concentration. She looked up to see him walking towards her. (Y/N) put her phone away and greeted him with a hug. Both teams performed well in practice and had a bright weekend. 

“Come on, we have a long day tomorrow,” she says, just wanting to get room service and get some well-needed cuddles. They get into the car and made their way back to the hotel. It was quiet for most of the drive. 

“So about the antic you pulled,” Toto broke the silence. She looked over at him in the driver's seat. “That was quite the start of the weekend,” he says, trying to stay stoic. 

“Well, I know that this season hasn’t been the one you were expecting, and I hated coming home and seeing you so disappointed and frustrated. So, I decided to have a little fun,” she explains herself. Toto brought his hand to her lap and wrapped his large hand around her smaller one. He brought her hand up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss against the back of her hand. 

“I appreciate that Liebe, and I must say, I did have fun today,” he says, remembering the way he recruited drivers to do his bidding. She smiles and returned the kiss he just placed on her hand. 

“I’m glad that my plan worked,” she replies. Silence fell between the two, but it was a peaceful and comfortable silence. 

“The next time you plan to kidnap one of my drivers again, I’m just going to steal you and have Charles and Carlos come to rescue you,” he comments, causing her to erupt into laughter. Their relationship had its ups and downs, but right now it was the perfect relationship anyone could dream of. 

~~~~~~~~~

google translate:

German: Love- Liebe

Italian: My Love- amore

[doubleedgemode]

A.B.A: Creature or Bride?

I have previously seen people compare A.B.A with The Bride of Frankenstein, and I used to think they were wrong, as to me, I saw parallels with The Creature instead and, me being frankly unfamiliar about the Bride (salve from very surface references in popular culture) thought they only adscribed the similarity due to being "frankenwomen" lmao. But as it turns out, they might indeed have more in common! They say "A wise man changes his mind sometimes but a fool never" so I do apologise for my incorrect assumption. While I do personally feel her inspiration would lean a little bit more on the Creature, I thought it'd be interesting to see A.B.A, the Creature and the Bride side by side to see their similarities:

(Disclaimer: As of now, I still haven't properly watched any of the classic Frankenstein movies, as I want to wait til I finish the book (which I haven't done yet), my knowledge comes from some research. So while I'm attempting this is all correct information I could perfectly be wrong about some facts. If so feel free to correct me!

(This also especially applies to what I mention about Japanese words, as I don't know that language, I rely on google translator and internet dictionaries. Misunderstandings are bound to happen)

I might revisit this in the future once I get to up to date with the films and the book, if there's more stuff I haven't noticed while I type this. :)

Also, I think all Creature references I mention are related to especifically Film Creature, not the book's, those I can't go without mentioning at least one of A.B.A's traits, her wordiness, wouldn't correlate with any of the movies' simulacra, but the book's Creature, who can give long speeches. And yes, the movie version is refered to as Monster but I've grown fond of using Creature as a catchall for him)

Our first stop is part of these concept art files (which the kind @.famiccha fully uploaded for any A.B.A fan that wants to see them!), where A.B.A has wires in her head. Caveat: This art collection has concepts that didn't fully make it in (like Para resembling A.B.A's headkey or the latter's top clothing having an X on it), I don't think I've ever seen another instance of A.B.A having these wires, but this is an interesting reference of what they had in mind while trying to get A.B.A's design. According to google translator, the text with an arrow pointing at her wires says "a mysterious electric wire appears. This is a female version of Franken)". This is one of the parts I associate more with the creature, as there's no sign of the word bride. (花嫁, hanayome. In Japanese the Bride of Frankenstein movie is called フランケンシュタインの花嫁, which means the same as in English) in the picture, just Franken (フランケン, yes, just Franken, not the full name. Very curious. Btw, Frankenstein is said as, well, you guessed it, フランケンシュタイン) Electricity is obviously associated with both the Creature and the Bride, of course, but A.B.A having a key-shaped screw going through her head (according to ggworld) is something that only the Creature possesses, though in his case they're bolts that work as electrodes. Maybe A.B.A's screw works as an electrode, too... Who knows!

Funnily, I thought A.B.A's mysterious wire could be a way to call back to the Bride's iconic lightning shaped hairstreaks or, if you allow me to do the biggest reach ever, similar to The Bride's hair actually being partly made with wire, so to speak (more on that later, keep a pin on it), but after researching, I'm pretty confident it references the Creature, as he has a forehead scar held with metal clasps, which is close in position as A.B.A's!

“He was apt to cut the top of the skull straight across like a pot lid, hinge it, pop the brain in and then clamp it tight,” Pierce told the magazine. “That’s why I made the monster’s head square and flat like a shoebox and added that big scar across the forehead with the metal clamps to hold it together.”-According to Jack Pierce, the make up artist behind both the Creature and the Bride's looks

So, were we to adscribe a function to her "mysterious wire"... It could perfectly be to keep her head in place lol.

So, with all this and more (her being the one to instigate any romance, her Strive boots's design, and a big etc.) you might ask where did I even find similarities with her and the Bride (aside from uh.. being women and uhh.. Strive A.B.A having long hair???), so I'll explain:

A.B.A fans, isn't the Bride having bandaged arms (and just straight up being fully bandaged at first, when she's born) kind of familiar?

But there's another very important part of A.B.A's (classic) design that is either a reference to The Bride or one of the best coincidences ever:

See, I thought the Bride was supposed to have black hair. After all, the popular culture depiction of her, even some licensed Universal stuff has her sport this... But her movie appearance is played by Elsa Lanchester, who is a redhead. Here's Lanchester in the movie Bell, Book and Candle:

Her hair as the Bride is actually hers but, now, she could have dyed her hair for the Bride movie, right? Well, I couldn't find any report of her as the Bride having dyed hair! Even if not all Bride depictions share that hair color, we have officially seen her as a redhead in some depictions. I chose this illustration by Karoly Grosz, Universal's art director in the 1930's:

And of course, none other than the original movie poster itself!:

I hope you people enjoyed this admitedly wordy dive into some of A.B.A's design's inspirations as much as I did :)

Lastly, two fun facts:

First, here's what I meant with the Bride's hair being Lanchester's but also being sort of made with wire:

"Pierce co-created the Bride's makeup with strong input from Whale, especially regarding the Bride's iconic hair style, based on Nefertiti. Lanchester's hair was given a Marcel wave over a wire frame to achieve the style."-From Wikipedia

Second, in The Bride of Frankenstein movie, we see one of its characters, Dr. Pretorius, has created homunculi! (not refered as such in the movie but Wikipedia calls them as such, which is not surprising considering Pretorius' creations are small artificial humans, who are even (mostly) in jars)

[chaifootsteps]

College anon dropping in to say that the dubs aren't very good. Some, like the french one, sound like the text went through google translate (and the dubbing in general is terrible despite France having a good rep in the industry). The Italian version of Poison is low-key good tho

As for my reaction to Poison, imagine that gif of the happy yellow emoji looking traumatized/dead inside. I stared at the screen wondering what led me to watching this and how ANYONE would think this was a good scene. Vivziepop claiming that the leaks don't represent the full scene was right for once... It was so much worse. I could think of a more tasteful way to picture it in 5 seconds, it isn't that hard. She could have even kept most of the scene, just remove the graphic stuff to keep the suggestive dancing (a smart idea that should have remained subtle) and maybe keep the Val part à la Addict to show that, yeah, on top of "working" all night (because the graphic scenes made it obvious he stopped "enjoying" work early during the night), Val SA'd him and that shows the entirety of the hell he's going through. It explains why he breaks down and lashes out. Viv didn't need to keep most of the SA, the entire thing was implied.

Also episode 4 comes out of left field. Yes, it was foreshadowed since the beginning but why is Angel suddenly returning his calls? We SAW him ignore Val. He clearly HATES him. Since when is Husk calling him out and badgering him about being "fake"?? They've known each other for a WEEK. It's way too early for that. It's like we're missing 3-4 episodes of development in-between. Angel reconnecting with Val and showing hints that this is indeed a facade, Husk knowing a lot about everyone and giving a damn... This should be a mid-end of season arc for Angel. I'd personally make it end of season 1 so that he can show change during season 2, beginning as someone new, someone who slowly tries to show he cares and let down his bravado in small amounts, with clear hints of being a little scared of the reactions, until it naturally becomes his full-time persona. Maybe have Charlie notice at some point and subtly encourage him, DELIGHTED (in caps because that girl is extra) that Angel is getting better but having to keep her excitement in in fear of scaring him off (because Charlie should have SOME sort of emotional intelligence ffs).

Loser, Baby feels out of place. This is NOT the appropriate reaction to Angel's words. Did they rewrite the dialogue but not the song?? Here's how it sounds:

Angel: I feel like I've gotta be Val's perfect whore all the time so I'm trying to break myself enough he will be alone—

Husk: Well, it's okay to be a loser, baby! Look at me, I'm a failure too. You ain't special and it's okay!

....So Angel is a loser/failure/broken but Val is still into him??? Did they realize that this should send him the wrong message?! That Val will "love" him no matter what and that Angel cannot be free, that he's been making himself miserable for NOTHING?? First of all, Husk's greediness and addictions are NOTHING like Angel's situation. He signed with his real name. That alone implies that Val snatched him early on as he arrived. On top of that, he's being abused every way possible on the regular, for no fault of his own, and is self-destructing. He cannot kill himself and Val won't let him be killed. This is NOTHING like Husk losing a game for more power and being forced to be a bartender.

Here's how it should have gone for the song to work:

Angel: So?! The real me is a good for nothing loser who died in a ditch from some shitty coke! THIS is the famous, hotter than Hell pornstar that everyone wanna fuck! And I've— I've gotta be the part. 'Cause if I'm not... If I ain't then who am I?

Angel's fear should have been about being seen as who he was, as some loser that nobody loved. Let him feel like he beat his father, that now he's someone so suck it dad! You were wrong! Let Angel behave as if his life was a porn movie because that's all he knows now and what he thinks he should be like. Instead of trying to ruin himself so that Val discards him, have him try to be perfect... Because that'll stop the abuse, right? Val is happy when he acts like that. The perverts worship him. No one cares about Anthony.

That would make Loser, Baby work. It would achieve its goal of saying "it's okay to suck, we all do! Look at me, I'm a loser but my life isn't over!" and get Angel to accept that he's enough as he is. If you add in a few episodes beforehand to set it up, it could have worked better instead of being insensitive.

Personally I would have entirely changed the Angel/Val dynamic. Val can still be a whiny bitch but not in a drama queen way as is implied. He gets like that whenever he loses control of his favorite. Have one of the Vees groan and say something about Angel having done something as if it happened often. Make them used to Val throwing a fit because he didn't get what he wanted out of Angel or because he's having a jealousy fit. It already makes Val more controlling. It'll make the messages scene hit harder as, yeah, we can see why Angel left, the dude is unstable and obsessed. I'd be a little more fucked-up and have Angel kinda love him. Ofc in the Stockholm Syndrome way, he's been abused so much he's too attached to leave. That shift in dynamic would explain why he eventually goes back despite everything. Like in the show, he feels ignored in favor of the new resident and the way he's dismissed and talked about makes him feel like shit. He checks his phone again and ends up listening to Val's new voice messages... And this time, they're sickeningly sweet in a row. He's sorry, he's begging for him to come back. He loves him. And that's enough for Angel to go out or answer him. Put a few episodes in-between where Angel seems... Off? How weird, he's jumpy, more on his phone. He's out for parts of the episodes or clearly focused on something else. Then we get episode 4, where everyone culminates to show how bad the situation is for him. I'd personally not have Val hit him. He's smart enough to not leave bruises on his top whore. However, he's manipulative and threatening. There's no doubt that he COULD hit Angel whenever, especially with the way he cowers. Angel tries to diffuse the situation, so well that it's heartbreaking, and he gets bold. That line when he doesn't reply "Yes Val" is meant with silence as we wait for Val's reaction, waiting for him to blow up. A beat. He doesn't. He's not calm but he's not as angry. He's not going to hit him. He thanks Angel, touching him while the other flinches, a hint that he handles Angel roughly in this kind of situation, and just as Angel looks relieved, he announces that he'll have to work all night, distressing Angel again.

Ofc that would require extensive research and talk to specialists to do it well. Viv's audience can be stupid so it's more of a struggle to make it clear that none of this is Angel's fault and to not romantize this shit but it's more interesting than Val being so obviously abusive. IMHO he almost transformed into someone else in that episode and it could work but we didn't see enough of him to go "oh that's the old abuser trick! he's not as nice as he is with others when he's with his victim!". Idk how to put it sensibly but the impression he gave me was "whiny manchild who sadly was given enough power by Daddy Vox to abuse someone" instead of the intended "terrifying Overlord who is unstable and abusing his power to abuse whichever worker he fancies at the moment". I dunno Chai I just think it would work better if he were more manipulative and welding his power in other ways than by force. Like Angel isn't scared by his strength but by his influence. Also I would low-key find a way to make it so that Angel, mistakenly, thinks he can get away with some things to explain how he'd leave for the Hotel. Like having him not be a perfect victim. While he tries to cater to Val and keep him happy out of fear (and/or care because abuse fucks you up), he sometimes provokes him or tries to do his own thing. It'd show he's his own person and stuff. Sadly that would be lost on Viv's stans and it would absolutely spark some victim-shaming stuff or worse. But I think if she's gonna try to portray something like this, she could do with some nuance and not so... Cliché? Of course, it happens like this to too many people but it feels like she's applying a trope with no thought into it. The most cookie-cutter depiction she could do for quick satisfaction or to tick that case. A bit like how Stolitz is a mix of multiple tropes and is a terribly done version of that trope where a noble falls in love with someone whose class is lower with a sprinkle of badly done transactional relationship that sparks feelings. Thinking of HB, HH has better representation of abuse but not by much. I feel like if Stella was a man, she'd have written it this way? It felt like fetish fuel hiding underneath the surface whereas Stella was lazy writing.

I dunno man, I wanted to rant about Charlie and her design but episode 4 hit me like a wall of bricks

Thank you for all of this, College Anon. This was a great read, and you're right, the Italian version of Poison goes so much harder than the English.

Also Italian Val's voice is...yeah, 10/10 stars on that one. Mama mia.

[doubleddenden]

Decided to try something different with a schedule I make for my friends in a discord server I'm in.

Going forward, I'll be posting my Toonami Schedules on my blog as well, and my DD ScheDDules too. That's just a little silly schedule I make.

Oh, the "meDDia" section is something I usually do when there's a rerun. In our server, I kinda have free reign over this part, so usually I'll look up a funny video that kinda fits the theming. This go around, since I'm feeling the love for DBZ again, I thought it'd be fun to try some fresh DB content we haven't gotten on the actual Toonami block. I decided to post ep 1 and 2 here since this is my first blog post of the schedule.

The graphic is definitely new for me. I found a font matching the Toonami font online, found the old Toonami emblem/logo, and from there I googled space pictures and did renders and edits in paint.net to get the result you see above. Thinking about changing the colors and doing a little more editing, but not too bad for my first attempt at one of these, right?

Some QA and disclaimers below:

"Why do this?"

I'm not really sure tbh. This kinda became my role in the server I'm in. I try to keep on top of the schedule and changes so everyone else can be informed or make other plans if they like. I wasn't the first to do this in my server, nor am I the only one able to do this, I just... I dunno, kinda did it so the others can catch a break? Life's tough and I like being relied on. I'm the schedule guy now

"Tf is the DD Schedule?"

Well, I am DD. The DD Schedule kinda started just as a little joke a year or two ago, again, I just kinda joke and shoot the shit. Some of my friends get upset with me if I forget or don't do the silly schedule, so I reckon if it makes them happy, I do it.

Sometimes it's good for recap. Sometimes not. Depends on the mood. It's just harmless fun and I like being silly.

"Why the inaccurate Japanese?"

Since Ninja Kamui is subbed, I basically just run my original Ninja Kamui bit through Deepl since I was told it is slightly more accurate than Google translate. No harm was meant if it comes off wrong. In other words, Sub is basically the same as Dub but slight differences.

"What are the numbers and projected end dates?"

Something different I decided to do with this schedule is to keep count of episodes and a possible end date for the season or series on Toonami. The Projected End Dates- PED- is subject to change for marathons that may happen. In fact, I'm pretty sure we're due for a Ninja Kamui marathon or 2 for when the series ends its current run, as they tend to do other originals.

"Why the graphics?"

Dunno, thought it'd be fun to try something different for a change. The schedule I post in our server is usually just text, so I figure this would spice things up.

"Why no time listed?"

Because I live in Central, some if my friends don't. Just assume the schedule starts as normal unless stated otherwise. For me that's 11:00pm central.

"Tf is Nart?"

It's Naruto, that's just my pet name for it.

Couple disclaimers

1. I am not a toonami employee. Just a fan. I have limited data per month and can't watch anime as much as I'd like, so Toonami is a great way for me to watch new things I haven't seen that I can't find on youtube or something.

2. I'm not a mod or admin of this server, more like a town crier or janitor.

If you have questions, feel free to message me and I'll answer whatever

3. Our server is a psuedo fan server, not official, and it's really more of a "whatever" server depending on the mood we're in, from Toonami to streamers to games and shows, etc. None of us are affiliated with Toonami in any official capacity and it's mostly us goofing off about whatever or watching Toonami on Saturdays. It is an 18+ server, fair warning- we try to keep that stuff in the designated channels, but *some* people are gremlins, so it can scare some off.

[deitiesofduat]

Another older question from my personal account -- not sure when it was asked so it may be delayed, sorry again! Also going to translate and answer in English if that’s okay? [ Google Translate ]

@elias18sposts asked: “Hola tenicola mucho gusto!! Quiero decirte que soy un gran admirador de tu trabajo y de la mitología egipcia!! Mi diosa favorita es hathor y debo decir que me encanta la tuya!! Te quería hacer una pregunta si no te molesta.. Sucede que desde que leí el mito de Osiris e Isis y tengo una duda. Cuando Osiris se convirtió en rey de los muertos y del Duat ¿cuando se ve con Isis? Después de su segunda muerte nunca se vuelven a ver? Como acordarás ese tema en tu trama??”

Translation: “Hello tenicola, nice to meet you! I want to tell you that I am a great admirer of your work and of Egyptian mythology !! My favorite goddess is hathor and I must say that I love yours !! I wanted to ask you a question if she doesn't bother you .. It happens that since I read the myth of Osiris and Isis and I have a question. When Osiris became king of the dead and of the Duat, when is he seen with Isis? After his second death, they never see each other again? How will you agree on that theme in your plot?”

Hola, Gracias! -- Hello, and thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoy the project, and that you like Hathor’s design! I hope the project has been okay to follow, even in English (?) Hopefully I can make the tumblr and new website a little bit more translation-friendly when I have the means 🙏

For your question -- I’m still figuring this bit out, but the main point I’m settled on is that Osiris and Isis are not currently separated in the main storyline. However, in the backstory, they were separated for a long time during The Contendings, at least until Isis was able to find Osiris’s body and properly resurrect him.

After he’s resurrected, Osiris is bound to Duat because of the nature of his death and his role as the King of the Underworld. Meaning, he cannot access the mortal realm anymore -- or if he can, it is under very limited conditions. But in DEITIES, Duat is also home to the gods, which means Isis can come and go through that realm, as often as she pleases (and most deities can do the same).

So Isis and Osiris do interact with each other -- they even have a shared palace in Duat, in addition to their own estates/temples. And even though they are very busy with all their royal tasks as king and queen, they are making up for lost time with each other, after the events following Osiris’s death + resurrection.

Hathor’s Profile: https://deitiesproject.com/characters/#hathor

Isis’s Profile: https://deitiesproject.com/characters/#isis

Osiris’s Profile: https://deitiesproject.com/characters/#osiris

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {2}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Flirtation

Words: 4.9k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: I did something a little different this chapter with POVs. You’ll see it toward the end. Let me know if it was confusing or if you guys liked it. Also there are Google Translations in text. If they are wrong, I apologize. I hope you enjoy this. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 

-Henry-

 He could feel the eyes of those around him. He’d been recognized. You’d think that years of being in the industry, he’d be immune to the stares, whispers, and not so discreet pictures of him being taken. He was not. It was always like the first time. It was difficult for him not to feel self-conscious about it either. Doing a once over of the restaurant, he made a mental note of where everyone who looked suspicious was. Most of them looked away when they saw him looking around, but there were a few bold ones who kept looking and even one or two extra bold who tried to make eye contact while giving the classic seductress lip bite. When that happened, he usually gave a quick, polite nod before looking away, never to look back.

 Tonight was no different, except he couldn’t stop thinking about one woman—you. It wasn’t enough that he’d dreamt of you last night in ways that were unexpected seeing how he’d just unofficially met you. He couldn’t explain how he felt. It was strange and new. He’d met beautiful women before, women that were drop dead gorgeous with an equally amazing and impressive body. The physical aspects of you were not what was keeping him enthralled. It was something else, something he saw in your eyes when he held you, something his body felt once he touched your skin, something his heartfelt when you spoke. It was unexplainable at this time, but just because he couldn’t explain it didn’t mean he couldn’t dwell on the feeling.

“Dude, I’ve been calling and texting you all night. What the hell?”

Jean, had his arms stretched out nonverbally, asking, “what the hell?”

 “You have?”

 “Yeah. Pick up your phone,” Jean finished.

 “I didn’t know. I don’t have my phone,” he replied as he leaned back. The eyes of his three friends dropped to the table where your phone was. It looked identical to his.

 “It’s right there, man,” William said, pointing to it.

 “This isn’t mine.”

 “Uh, it looks like yours,” Jameson informed.

 “Yeah, but it’s not.”

 They all looked confused. Stifling his laughter, he began explaining to them. He knew they were probably going to lose their minds.

 “Yesterday, I had a meeting about Witcher, so I’m coming off the elevator on my phone, and I run smack into Aliya Taylor.”

 The eyes of the gents around him widened as they sat up more alert.

 “Thee Aliya Taylor?” Nodding his answer to Jameson, he gulped his Guinness before continuing.

 “She almost falls over, so my reflexes kick in, and I catch her and set her upright. She recovers and gets on the elevator. I pick up what I thought was my phone, but I just spent the last night realizing that this is not my phone,” he finished.

 The three of them sat there silently, each thinking over the bit of news he’d just shared. Saying it out loud, it sounded like a plot from a romcom. It was absolutely ridiculous. Things like these never happen in real life.

 “So, you have Aliya Taylor’s phone.”

 “I have Aliya Taylor’s phone, and she has mine,” he laid out.

 Jameson, his oldest friend, slid back with a shocked expression on his face. “Wow. That’s bonkers.”

 Releasing a chuckle, he nodded in agreement.

 “So, what have you doing on her phone?”

 He knew that was going to be William’s next question. He could also guess another one of his questions was going to be about your pictures.

 “What you would find on a typical woman’s phone,” he answered.

 “So, selfies, nudes, clothes, and makeup?”

 The laughter around the table filled the space around them, giving him enough of a reprieve to drink down some more of his Guinness.

 “Not sure about the nudes. I saw a half nude then stopped. I felt weird like I was violating her privacy.”

 “The better question is, what’s on your phone, mate?” That was when he made a face knowing full well what might be on his phone.

 “There might be a few nudes,” he admitted. His friends laughed again, but he didn’t find it funny at all. “Oh Christ, I hope she hasn’t seen them.”

 “Mate, Aliya Taylor could be checking out your knob right now and fancying what she sees,” Jean teased.

 “Shut up. She hasn’t called. I’m sure she knows by now that it’s not her phone,” he audibly thought.

 “Just like you know. Call her,” Jameson urged.

 He sat there for a few moments thinking about if that were the right move rather than a text. His friends could see his hesitation. So passed the next five or so minutes with them trying to convince him a call was the best option. With a unanimous decision, he picked up the phone as his friends squeezed in to look.

 “Aw, flowers how adorable,” William teased. He ignored their laughter and dialed his number. He had no idea if you’d pick up or not.

 The phone rang three times, and just when he thought you weren’t going to pick up, he heard your voice. It was soft and hesitant.

 “Hello?”

 Silence. His eyed automatically widened as he froze. His friends around him motioned to him, telling him to speak. That was when his brain restarted.

 “Yes, hi. This is Henry—Cavill. I bumped into you; we bumped into each other yesterday.”

 “Right, yes,” you confirmed in a professional voice. He wondered if you were slightly freaking out as much as he was on the inside. If you were, you sounded nothing but calm and collected.

 “It looks like I might have your phone,” he breached.

 “And I might have yours.”

 “It seems that way.”

 The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.

 “Would you like to make a plan to exchange them back? Maybe coffee tomorrow, or brunch?”

 His mouth said it before his brain caught it. Once it was out, he cringed. He sounded sleazy with a touch of desperate. It was not a good look either way. Your silence told him you thought the same thing.

 “Are you asking me out or to meet up to get your phone back?”

 It was a good question, one he didn’t have enough confidence to answer.

 “I can’t tomorrow anyway. I’m actually in London right now working. I won’t be back in LA for about a week and a half,” you informed.

 “Oh, wow.”

 “Yeah. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. If you like, I can have my assistant mail it to you express. You should get it by tomorrow night,” you suggested.

 “I would rather exchange hand to hand. My phone has a lot of very personal stuff on it.”

 “As does mine,” you added.

 “I would suspect so. The most secure thing would be when you return to LA,” he countered.

 “Can you go without a phone for that long?”

 A smile spread across his face. “I’ll be using yours.”

 Your laughter was loud and unexpected. He couldn’t help but smile wider because of it. He wondered what you looked like while you laughed. Catching a glimpse of his friends’ faces, he wiped the smile off his face and shook the thought away.

 “Feel free to use mine,” he added.

 “And is someone important calls like Spielberg or a Francesca?”

 That was when he knew you’d looked in his phone. He wasn’t angry. He was filled with something else—regret maybe. Regret that you’d seen things that he couldn’t explain then and there or beforehand. His friends all had the same look on their faces. It was one that said he’d been caught.

 “If it’s Spielberg, yes, answer on the first ring.”

 Again, you laughed. You were good for his ego; he thought to himself before continuing.

 “Francesca, no need to answer, we have nothing to talk about.” It was the truth. “What about if it’s Tyra Banks or Liam or Jesse. Do I answer?”

 The silence stretched for several long moments. He wondered if you would answer, and his friends looked equally interested. What seemed like a long while later, he heard you speak again.

 “Tyra Banks answer at your own risk, she’ll pump you for info until you’re blue in the face. If it’s Liam or Jesse, if I were you, I wouldn’t. They have strong jealous tendencies.”

 The answer was unexpected, and it was an answer he didn’t quite like. “Who doesn’t these days,” he stated. Neither of you spoke for a few moments after.

 “So, a week and a half?”

 “Sounds like a date,” he responded. You giggled. He liked the sound of it.

 “Date?”

 “Yes, a date,” he confirmed.

 “I never said anything about a date.”

 “I know, but I also know there was some sort of spark between us yesterday, and I know you felt it too.”

 Again you were quiet. Yeah, it was bold, but he knew that he wouldn’t get any answers to the multitude of questions he had without some bold move forward.

 “You’ll have your phone back in a week and a half. Goodbye, Henry,” you said before you ended the call.

 Without knowing he’d been holding it, he released his breath and sat back in his seat.

 “Jeez, she’s a firecracker,” Jameson professed.

 That’s the least of it, he thought.

 ~~~~~~~

-Aliya-

 Your time in London was hectic. You were all over the place. Your photoshoots took you all over the English countryside. You frolicked in green pastures, posed on trees, in trees. You rode horses and pretended to play cricket. You posed with English roses and having afternoon tea all the while in the latest in fashion, and all dolled up in makeup. When your days began at five in the morning, they didn’t end until ten at night. If they began at night, you were not back in your hotel room until six in the morning.

 On the days your modeling responsibilities didn’t rule your schedule you worked within your company. You were still in the midst of putting out your first magazine that you hoped would be up to par with Vogue or Bazaar. The goal was to do what they did, just better, and geared for a more ethnic audience, but you were now working on ways to be a bit inclusive—but not much. You wanted black and brown people to feel included, seen, represented, and heard. It was a lot of work, but you knew it would be worth it. Your launch was scheduled for a few months from now, and your excitement was reaching epic proportions with each passing day.

 This project was your baby, you put sweat, blood, tears, sleepless nights, and everything ounce of your energy into it. You sometimes neglected having a life for it, and that included dating. It was what you told yourself was the reason for your lack of dating. At the surface, it sufficed, but deep down, you knew you were full of shit. No one else had to know that, though. All anyone needed to know was that you liked to work, and you were damn good at everything you did. You made sure of it.

 With your current phone situation, you used Henry’s phone to do everything. No one recognized the number, and when they saw it, they always wanted to question you on what was going on. You were thankful that whoever you called didn’t have his number, or else the caller ID would say his name whenever you called, then you’d have a lot of explaining to do.

 On your fourth day in London, you were sitting in the tub soaking after a long day when his phone went off with a notification signifying a text. When you looked at it, you couldn’t help but smile.

 MSG Your Phone: Travis and Jesse have called three times so far. I haven’t answered, but you have an overflow of messages and voicemails.

 You smiled and wondered if he was fishing for details. When you reread the message, you tried to pick up on any hint of jealousy. There was none.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Francesca and Abby haven’t called, but the messages are overflowing. Would you like me to forward them?

 After barely waiting a minute, another message came in.

 MSG Your Phone: No. As I said, we have nothing to talk about. Would you like me to forward your voicemails?

 Again you smiled. He was fishing.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Nah. They can wait.

 You had to giggle. You didn’t plan on giving him not one detail.

 MSG Your Phone: How is London treating you?

MSG Henry’s Phone: It’s fine.

MSG Your Phone: Did the sun come out for you?

MSG Henry’s Phone: Nope. Raining cats and dogs.

 You sank deeper into the tub and took up the glass of wine you had rested at the side. After a decent sip, you placed the wine glass back and sighed.

 MSG Your Phone: Glad to know mother nature treats you just as how she treats me.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Are you in London a lot?

MSG Your Phone: I mainly live in London. I come to LA for work but am spending more and more time here for work, or on location.

 The thought popped into your head of where he lives. You wondered if you’d passed it. As soon as you began thinking about it, you pushed the thoughts out of your head.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Oh, so you’re a Brit. Interesting.

 It was a stupid reply. Duh, he was a Brit, the accent in interviews you’d watched since bumping into him made it a dead giveaway. It was the only thing you could think of.

 MSG Your Phone: What is that interesting?

MSG Henry’s Phone: I completely missed your accent.

 It wasn’t a lie.

 MSG Your Phone: You were rather distracted.

 You couldn’t help but giggle again. It was adorable how confidant he was. This was not the first display of it. Deciding to throw him off, you shot your final text.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Gotta run, goodbye Henry.

 Instead of putting the phone down, you reread the messages. With each message, you found yourself smiling wider and wider until you noted a giddy feeling rushing through you. Nipping it in the bud, you put the phone down and closed your eyes, deciding to focus only on relaxing. Unfortunately, the two hemispheres of your brain weren’t in agreement. One wanted Henry, the other wanted relaxation.

Two days of working and forcing yourself to focus on work and everything related to it found you drifting onto the side of overstressed and worked. Any normal human would do everything to alleviate the discomfort, but you, you did everything in your power to prolong it. You knew what the root of it was, and you didn’t want to entertain any parts of your growing curiosity about him. Though you didn’t want to entertain your thoughts about him, you found yourself two days later sitting on your hotel room balcony with a glass of wine thinking of no other but him.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Why don’t you have a lock code on your phone?

As you waited, you sipped from your glass and stared out to the London Eye. It was one of your favorite parts of the city. Sometimes at night, you liked to ride it and just think about your life. You especially liked having it stop at the top. It gave you such a beautiful view of the city and the lights it always took your breath away.

 <With Henry>

 He heard the chime of the phone in the next room. He turned the flame on the stove down to low, so the sauce he had simmering wouldn’t thicken too quickly and made his way to his bedroom for the phone on the nightstand. When he took it up, his smile was wide when he saw his number and the name he’d designated himself as highlighted.  When he opened it and read the message, he couldn’t stop the victory dance that he did around his two-bedroom home that went on for much longer than he’d ever admit to.

 When he stopped, he was back in the kitchen, hovered over the counter.

 MSG Your Phone: What do I need a code for?

 As he anxiously waited for your reply, he put the phone on the counter several inches from him. He hoped this would stop him from sending message after message. When he realized that it wasn’t enough, his idle hands still wanted work, so he went back to stirring his pot.

 <With Aliya>

 His reply had you wrinkling your nose. He sounded so flippant about it.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Well, for one, you’re an actor with a lot of private high secret info regarding movies on your phone. Anything can get leaked. For two, this is the twenty-first century, and the average person has at least six pieces of incriminating material on their phones. That incriminating material can end up on TMZ or US Weekly, hell every Perez Hilton.

 You couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that. This was logic to you, logic you couldn’t believe no one else had.

 <With Henry>

 He nearly laughed out loud from your message. This was definitely a concern of someone whose star of fame was up there in the stratosphere. He didn’t consider his fame to be anywhere near that high. Yeah, he had fans that ventured on highly over spirited, but on the ever swinging pendulum of fame, he was somewhere a few notches past middle ground. He was glad for it. Already he found his level of fame to be somewhat invasive and debilitating. He could not imagine dealing with your level of fame.

 MSG Your Phone: I’m not nearly important enough for anyone to want to hack into my phone to blast info. Also, yes, this is the twenty-first century, but I am anything but the average man. That doesn’t apply to me.

 <With Aliya>

 You liked his reply. It said a lot about him but also left so many things hidden, things you absolutely wanted to know more about.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: So, there is nothing on your phone that you wouldn’t want a stranger, me seeing?

 You thought back to his pictures and the women in his text history and wondered how he would respond. This time you finished your wine with the raise of your hand and poured the remaining contents of the bottle into it as you waited for his reply.

  <With Henry>

 Immediately his mind went to his suggestive nudes and the messages with Abby and Francesca. Those were the only two things he worried about.

MSG Your Phone: Yes, there are things I wouldn’t want you seeing. A stranger, I don’t really care.

 Your message came in almost immediately.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: What makes me so different? I am a stranger.

 Smiling, he turned off the fire, took up the saucepan and poured the caramelized onion, garlic, butter, and wine sauce over his perfectly prepared steak. After putting the saucepan in the sink for washing later, he walked to the dining table with his steak and potatoes dish. He was still living on a high protein diet to keep himself in Witcher shape.

 MSG Your Phone: So I’m a stranger?

MSG Your Phone: Yes. I don’t know you.

 He thought about your words for a few moments as he sliced a piece of his steak to pop into his mouth. As he chewed, he knew the right response.

 MSG Your Phone: Do you want to know me?

  <With Aliya>

 It was bold as hell. You couldn’t believe the words as you reread them for the fourth time. What the hell did you say to that? What did he expect you to say? What did you want to say? The only answer that fits every question was you didn’t know.

 MSG Your Phone: Something easier then. Why don’t you have a code on your phone?

 Sighing out in relief, you took a few gulps of your wine.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: I did, I was in the process of changing it when I bumped into you and never completed it, so both were void.

MSG Your Phone: Oh, so it was fate then.

 You almost rolled your eyes into the back of your head so far they got stuck.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Fate?

MSG Your Phone: Yes, fate that we bumped into each other at the exact moment you took the code off your phone and then happened to have lost your phone to me. Fate that gave me ten days to peruse it if I chose to. Fate that gave me ten days to make a plan.

 Your smile was widening every second that ticked by. The man was charismatic.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: A plan? To what exactly?

  <With Henry>

 His smile was big. This was going just as he hoped. The only thing left for him to do was take it there.

 MSG Your Phone: To make you mine.

 He wished he could see your face right now.

  <With Aliya>

 Gasping for air, you continued to cough. The wine was still trapped in your windpipe. As you struggled for air, you tried to calm your panic. After several moments you found yourself able to catch a full breath.

 “Holy shit,” you finally gasped. The man was bold as hell for real. You read the message again, and again each time the shock remained. You couldn’t believe he actually said that. A flirtatious feeling washed over you, and you decided to run with it.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: You can’t make something or someone a possession that doesn’t want to be possessed.

MSG Your Phone: I think you want to be possessed.

 Scoffing, you shook your head and stared at the London Eye again and looked over the lights of the city.

 MSG Henry’s Phone: Are you sure?

 As soon as you sent the message, his phone chimed again, except this wasn’t a message from him. It was from Abby. Almost instantly, a sour taste filled your mouth, and your face reflected that. It was like a slap to your face telling you to wake the hell up and come back to reality. That was when your bitch face came out to play.

 MSG Your Phone: Pretty sure, but you tell me.

MSG Henry’s Phone: You should call Abby. She’s sent you fourteen messages today, most recent right now. Goodbye, Henry.

 Closing out messages, you gently tossed his phone onto the small table on the balcony, grabbed your glass, and looked out over the city.

 For the next four days, any message he sent you ignored. The one thought that kept racing through your head was that there were currently two women that were continually texting him. Though you didn’t know the specifics of why the whole situation screamed messy. You didn’t do messy; you didn’t do love triangles or squares, you didn’t do anything that screamed complicated or distracting. You didn’t care how attracted you were to him. You wouldn’t compromise your ideals for anyone—not again.

When he changed his tactics from texting to calling, you ignored those too. You were tempted to answer, and on several occasions, you almost did until your stubbornness triumphed. You were victorious until one night in your room as you soaked in the tub after another long day. His phone rang loudly. Somehow you knew it was him. You didn’t know how, but you knew. When you reached for it and glanced at the screen, you loudly groaned as your suspicions proved correct. Closing your eyes, you tried to decide on if you’d answer or not.

 “Hello?”

 “Hi.” His voice sounded so damn good, and by the way, your belly flipped, you knew it agreed.

 “Hey,” you nonchalantly replied.

 “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

 “Uh, not really. Not unless you call catching me in the bath a bad time,” you teased.

 “Oh. I’m sorry,” Henry quickly stammered.

 “It’s fine. How can I help you?”

 Yeah, it was slightly cold, but maybe cold was the right way to be. “Hello? Henry?”

 You heard him release a puff of breath. You could imagine what it smelled like. You couldn’t picture it.

 “Whew, this is the second time I’ve heard you say my name, and it had the same effect as the first time.”

 Your belly again flipped. It was becoming a normal reaction to his words.

 “What was the effect of the first time?”

 He didn’t speak immediately, and after a minute of silence, you wondered if he would.

 “So I’m about two weeks away from finishing reshoots and prep for season two for Witcher and I really, really need some time off. I had no idea how much the process had run me down. I am physically exhausted,” he mentioned.

 “A lot of action, huh. I saw some episodes of the first season.”

 “Nice. Yeah, it’s a lot of working out and fight training. It goes on and on,” he explained.

 “Poor thing.” You were teasing him, and when he chuckled, you were glad he caught it and didn’t take offense from your condescending tone. The lite humor worked to ease away any tension in the air between you.

 “This is strange. I’m talking to someone on their cell phone while they talk to me on mine.”

 “I can see how that would be strange,” Henry replied.

 Silence fell between you again. It was a mixture of a comfortable one and one of nervousness.

 “I have to tell you before I miss my chance. You have the most amazing voice I have ever heard, and you’re an amazing artist.”

 With a racing heart and a wide grin on your face, you closed your eyes and tried to get control over the butterflies in your belly. It took you several moments to get a grip. This was not the first time you’d gotten a compliment like this, but this was the first time it made you feel like this.

 “Thank you. That’s—kind of you to say.”

 “Just stating facts. I’ve always been a fan of your music,” Henry added.

 “Thank you for that.”

 “You’re welcome. How’s work?”

 You sighed and dropped your head back on the cushion there. “Exhausting. I need a vacation or to stop getting on a plane. It takes a lot out of me,” you confessed.

 “We both need a vacation it seems,” Henry began. The way his voice sounded had you lifting your head to read between the lines.

 “Are you insinuating that we should take a vacation together?”

 “I wasn’t insinuating anything. I was thinking it, though. Seems you read my mind. Sounds like a good idea.”

 You snorted as soon as he finished. “How? We don’t know each other,” you piped up.

 “What’s a better way to get to know each other than on vacation?”

 Your jaw dropped. The man was insane. “You’re crazy. That’s a horrible idea.”

 “Tomato, tomato.”

 Your laugh was loud and almost uncontrollable. You had to give it to him, his sense of humor was top notch.

 “Plus, after our date in a few days, we’ll know each other better,” Henry confidently slid in.

 “What date?”

 “The date you want to show up for when we exchange phones.”

 Usually, this level of cockiness in a man was unattractive. You’d left plenty of them hanging for far less. With him, you found yourself not hating the cocky spiel maybe because it came off as something else—intoxicating confidence.

 “I hear an accent, too,” Henry said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

 “What accent?”

 “An Australian one. It’s faint on most words but heavy on a few.” You smiled. You’d thought it had mainly disappeared by now.

 “Not many people can hear it,” you clarified.

 “I’m good with accents and languages. I know French, some Italian, a few words and phrases in German and Czech.”

 You decided to test that theory.

 “Combien de temps at-il fallu pour apprendre le français?” (How long did it take you to learn French?) 

 “Peu de temps peut être cinq mois.” (Not long maybe five months.) Henry responded in perfect French.

 A thrill filled you.

 "Und Deutsch?”

 "Deutsch dauerte länger etwa acht Monate.” (German took longer about eight months) Henry replied in perfect enough German.

“You speak French and German?”

 “A very little bit, trust me, it wasn’t my idea. You sound like a native, though,” you complimented.

 “Thanks. I try.”

 The longer you spoke, the more intrigued you became by him, and the more intrigued you became, the more attracted to him you became. You checked the phone and saw you’d already been talking for almost forty minutes. It didn’t feel nearly that long, though. You could hear his breathing through the phone. It wasn’t heavy breathing, but soft breaths that you imagines were pleasantly warm. When you thought it, you dropped your head back to the cushion in frustration.

 “It’s pretty late here, and I have an early call tomorrow,” you began.

 “Right, I’m sorry to have kept you up.”

 “It’s okay—I guess.”

 “All right, have a good night,” Henry ended.

 “Goodbye, Henry.”

 You ended the call and sank low in the water, but not low enough to wet your hair.

 “I don’t need this now,” you groaned out before you slapped your hand on top of the water creating a small wave that splashed over the edge of the tub and cascaded onto the floor. You had to figure out a way to nip this in the bud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

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[pinkys-plan]

The Search for the Baby

Buckle up because this is a long one. There'll be a tl;dr at the end, so feel free to skip past my riveting story if you so please.

So, my dear friends, I am on a quest.

Recently, I happened upon a tiktok user (Gosh, aka @ alluropinionsrirrelevant) asking for help finding a toy they owned as a child. You can find that video here but for those of you for whom that is not an option, the description is as follows:

It was made from 2003-2008. Exact year unsure.

It was a cartoonish baby, sitting, who was wearing a propeller hat (without the cap part. Like a propeller beanie)

It would cry and vibrate, and its pacifier was a button that calmed it down when pressed

It had a microphone in the stomach so you could talk to it to soothe it

The arms were loose and could move around freely

In the comments were some extra pointers, as they told people who made suggestions which ones were incorrect. For example, it was definitely not a Cry Baby doll, nor was it any kind of realistic looking baby doll.

In a second tiktok, they state that this baby was not really a doll per se, but was an entirely plastic figure that could fit on the palm of your hand.

Most importantly, however, they were absolutely certain that it looked EXACTLY like the picture they drew.

At this point, my interest was piqued. I am an incredibly stubborn person and I enjoy, more than many things, being right. I also enjoy helping people because who doesn’t get a kick out of seeing others smile?

I decided not that I would have a little go at finding the baby, but that I was going to find it no matter what. 100%. I would not rest until I had solved this mystery.

So, off I went to google. I searched so many terms and I very quickly understood why so many people thought it was a Cry Baby. It looked very similar to the Cry Baby dolls I was seeing (as pictured, hopefully below)

But, over the years, I’ve had many memories of things that people have insisted were wrong about but turned out to be totally right, so I wasn’t going to let the internet tell this poor soul that they were wrong and that this was what it was. Gosh says it looks exactly like the one they drew? Then it looks exactly like the one they drew and I was not going to cease until I could find one that matched it far beyond a reasonable doubt.

I found a few contenders. For example:

This little fucker seemed similar enough. Entirely hard plastic? Check. Similar position? Check. Electronic? I think so. Probably cried too, by the looks of it. But there were obviously holes in this theory - no propeller hat, no microphone hole on the stomach, no free movement in the arms, plus there was a bottle that surely Gosh would have mentioned if the real baby was supposed to have one. So, not it.

This carried on for a while, finding things that were sort of similar but not quite, then discarding them because they weren’t close enough for me to be satisfied.

Then I typed the words ‘baby figure toy 2003’. This got me nothing. Then I added a sneaky little ‘electronic’ on the end and didn’t even have to scroll down.

Right there, on the right hand side of my screen, was the baby. There was no question about it, this was it. There’s no point going through all of the things that were the same because this little chunk of plastic was the spitting image of the one Gosh drew.

I went to the site, looking for a name, and that is when I found...

...nothing. I’d found the baby on an auction site and it was literally just labelled ‘baby doll’ in Spanish. The seller didn’t know the name of this thing. I then reverse image searched it to see if any more were around. Nothing.

I left a comment on the original tiktok, telling them the good news and the bad news, relaying that yes, it did exist, they weren’t making it up, that it was yellow and purple, with little ‘G’s on the feet and it was made in 2003 by Sega and Hasbro but that I couldn’t give a name for it. I also sent a picture on Instagram bc apparently you can’t sent pictures though tiktok dms??

Anyway, I pressed on.

Sega and Hasbro are huge, so a toy made by both companies must have some kind of documentation somewhere, right?

Wrong.

No matter what I searched, there was nothing. I couldn’t find the name of the toy, other pictures of the toy, any kind of box or advertising for the toy. Nothing. Zero. Zilch.

The only thing I did find was a blue version with different hair. It was on Reddit and the poster had put up the picture in hopes of finding the answers that I, too, was looking for.

I could have left it there but, as I said before, I’m stubborn as all hell when I want to be, especially when I’m procrastinating, so I had all the time in the world to identify this little plastic child.

I searched high and low, through Sega and Hasbro toy archive sites. I eventually found this Sega toy timeline graphic, which I thought was going to be the jackpot:

But was actually sort of useless because when I scrolled to 2003, as you can see, there’s nothing there. It says that year is listed somewhere else. 

Okay, so just go there, right? Wrong again, because when is anything easy?

I go through a whole bunch of these long exchange reports, or whatever they were, that allegedly contain the list of toys Sega produced in 2003 (I’m not entirely as knowledgeable about Japanese stock exchanges as I apparently need to be) and, once again, nothing.

I try to find toy catalogues from 2003. I went on the wayback machine for Argos in 2003. This was all to no avail, but eventually, I found a tiny lead.

On the 2003 version of the Sega Toys Japanese website, there was a toy called プチベビ (which google translated as ‘Petit baby’). By no means was this the exact toy but it was very similar. It had the same body type, with the same moveable arms and microphone bellybutton. The head was different, just a plain face without the pacifier, and these infants were not bright yellow or blue and were also dressed in little animal onesies.

Okay, so was this like the Japanese version of the toy? Possibly. Probably.

Other than that, I have nothing. I’m still going through the 2003 Hasbro site but that’s probably a dead end.

So, dear friends, I am now turning to you for help. If you owned this little yellow and purple baby (or the blue one), knew anyone who owned it, or know anything about it, please talk to me. If you have the box still or the pamphlet that may have come with it, please reach out. If you have access to toyshop catalogues from 2003-2004, or just any catalogue from that time from a store that may sell toys, please get in touch.

I’m really hoping this post gets around because I’m immensely intrigued by this toy and why it has seemingly been lost to the void, so I’m desperate for answers.

An extra tiny lead on the name is that the line of toy might be ‘Gaga’ or something of the sort, which Gosh recalls it may have been called, and makes sense with the ‘G’ that is on both toys.

TL;DR:

(ID: Wanted poster with a photo of the Baby. Below the photo, the text reads: ‘Looking for any information about this toy. Do you have one? Do you remember its name? Do you still have the packaging/any information that came with it? Please share!’)

[mcrmadness]

Madness draws: Behind the Scenes of the Bela/Farin: “Widumihei” comic.

A few months ago I posted here this comic:

CLICK HERE for the original post about that comic where you can see it in better and bigger size, and also reblog it ;)

And this post is just a deep dive into how I plan, do and draw my comics.

Let’s start with sketchbook things...

So every comic needs a story, right? My comics usually are born from either some dialogue I imagine in my head or by an impulsive inspiration that happens when I see something or talk with people and a random idea is triggered. I’m very good at coming up with new ideas solely based on just one word or so which is why I often ask people if they have anything they would want to see/read because I suck at coming up ideas on my own. Or I do get ideas, but not as often as I’d want to.

This particular idea was very old and I have tried but I cannot find the piece that was my inspiration but it was in some of my old German books because I remember laughing at it with either my brother or even with the German teacher in 2011 or 2012. I was only able to find my first “sketch” of the story:

This is in the notebook I used for writing down some comic ideas and even had one comic in it, plus it’s also my fanfiction writing notebook. It has no date but I know for sure it was either 2011 or 2012 because that’s when I did my last Bela/Farin comic and pretty much started my (unintentional) 6 year pause from drawing altogether.

I have always been trilingual when I do these plans for my comics, often writing the “narration” in Finnish and the dialog either in English or German because I just cannot imagine them to speaking Finnish. The translation of that text goes as:

COMIC (sarjis = sarjakuva = comic book in Finnish)

1. The phone is ringing. 2. F: “Widumihei?!” B: ? 3. B: “Farin wtf?” 4. Farin walks from another room. 5. B: “Widumihei?” 6. F: “It means, “will you marry me?”“ 7. B: *wtf* REPLAY:

1. Bela is sitting/laying somewhere. 2. The phone is ringing. Reached with his hand? 3. Looks at the phone, “wtf?”, a thought: “von Jan: Widumihei?!” 4. Bela: “Farin?” / “Jan?” 5. F comes from another room, looks in from behind the door frame or something. B: “Widumihei?” 6. F: “Widumihei: “WIllst DU MIch HEiraten”“ 7. B: “WTF”

So when I then started to draw these comics again in 2018, I kept thinking about this one too and still wanted to draw it one day. If you have read the finished comic, you may notice something different in the old plot versus new: I switched Bela’s and Farin’s roles. Back then I didn’t know too much yet but over the years I have learnt much much more about them and I just figured that asking to marry him even as a joke would be too much for Farin and that it would fit Bela’s persona much much better.

***

I had a bit of problems with getting started with this one, mainly because the last times I drew a dä comic was in June 2020, in April 2020 and before those in October 2019. Because of so long time between the comics, I just always forgot about my methods and in which order I do things and what works for me the best. So every time I started to work on a comic, I had to start completely over because all I had was blank paper and I somehow needed to get my thoughts in order and out of my head, into a physical form aka as text and images on the paper, and it’s easier said than done.

So pardon me but from this on the text is going to get a little bit confusing for a little while from now on - but it’s also a very good look over how the life with my suspected ADHD be like sometimes...

I started working on the plot once again to my sketchbook... I think it was somewhere in the beginning of 2020. Because the next idea there is from the summer. This is what the plot looked like at that point - here I had already switched their roles:

Shortly, the texts go: 1. Farin is reading a book. 2. A phone makes a noise. 3. (Farin) looks at it/read the message. / 6. B appears into the doorway. / 11. F spits out the tea.

And underneath it you can see one of the stick figure storyboards I often do in order to kinda see the text in pictures better, and I will write down or draw important aspects like expressions (Farin’s eyebrows) or things like *facepalm’* or *eyeroll* so that I remember to add them.

Next I was struggling with the era. It needed to be an era with the old mobile phones with SMS options but still not too early because I feel that Farin would have not been the first in line to buy a brand new technology object, especially not when it’s a phone. I was even googling when did Germany get their first mobile phone - I remember I got my first phone aka Nokia 5510 in 2000 or 2001 after my mom got a new one and gave her old one to me, so the story shouldn’t happen too many years before the Millenium.

Originally I planned 1997 for that - I needed to think about that based on their styles because shorter hair is harder to draw. Here’s me trying out some hairs and how they’re to draw and which era would suit my needs the best. I actually find the text hilarious altho it’s mine but this is what it’s in English:

Time period -> 1996-1997? 1998 I’ve never drawn 1999 is not that much fun to draw 2000 is already a bit too late? Bela not that much fun to draw. -2001 moustaches are not fun to draw?

I think I was struggling with my thoughts because the next thing in that sketchbook is yet another storyboard:

Or actually I think this was just to see how many sheets I’d need and how many panels I could fit on one sheet.

Anyhow, I then did other things for some time before I got back to this project this year. Including finishing with the sketchbook I had been using since 2010 (and the half of it since 2018!) and I had to get myself a new one. So when I started to think about this comic again, one night I was just thinking about some Bela/Farin scenarios as usual and suddenly I just felt that I NEED to do the comic in the 1998 style!!! So suddenly we jump from the original 1997 idea to the new era, only because of the colors. 

So asap I grabbed my sketchbook and started to look for the proper colors for the hairs:

This one I posted here before too as I was struggling a lot and just felt that I didn’t know how to draw, again. Sometimes when I feel like that, I start drawing with my non-dominant aka left hand because it doesn’t have all that in muscle memory so drawing and writing with it feels more free and it feels almost like pressing a refresh button in my brain. Suddenly the right one know again how to draw because left isn’t too well in control. The below part of the image is done completely with the left hand, including the coloring.

And because I had now a new sketchbook, I somehow couldn’t... deal with the plot and plans being in a different sketchbook than everything else so I had write the plot/dialog AGAIN, into this new sketchbook, along with the storyboards and everything:

Translations: kirja = book, puhelin = phone, oviaukossa = in the doorway, teet suusta = tea(s) out of a/the mouth. “Puhelin zoom” just means “close up to the phone screen” in Madness.

You can also see that I found out that I don’t need to do the stick figure storyboards to imitate a sheet when I can just draw this rectangle and smaller rectangles inside of it and write there numbers to match the things in the dialog to make it much easier for me to plan the pages. And here’s also a small easter egg: there’s 13 panels overall in this comic :D I almost did 12 but then felt that no, I really need to do 13 because, you know, the hairs, the era, the album title. And also because I like the number so much lmao.

So from there we get to the second storyboard which is not just stick figures anymore but just me planning how I want the panels to look like. To get the imagery of the rooms and facial expressions etc. out onto the paper so that I can see them in real life instead of my shady imagination that sometimes isn’t as vivid as what I could be.

Also have you ever tried to draw a beach chair? It’s more difficult than you’d think:

I tried to draw the same thing from the same reference photos so many times and still I always felt like I was trying to draw that impossible triangle or some other illusion image. And it just went on and on here:

Originally I also had planned the second panel to be a close up of the phone so that Farin’s face would be left at the background from the frog perspective. That’s what I was trying to with that weird-ass face on the left but turned out that I have never drawn these characters from such angle and I just... couldn’t see it in my head clearly enough to be able to draw it. So I dismissed that idea and that’s why the angle changed from a phone close-up to a side view to the room and at Farin.

As I was in the middle of planning the second page, I suddenly wasn’t happy with my original plot anymore. I wasn’t sure if it would work and needed to think about it one more time. So I wrote two other dialogs here, along with a storyboards for them both. I ended up choosing B from those two options eventually.

I don’t remember anymore if I had already done the first sketch of the comics or not but at some point I just felt that I no longer knew how to draw in my style. Sometimes you just draw and learn wrong things and wrong methods that you get used to and then you have to take a break and actually do a little bit of studying over your own style to find again the way how you want to draw, and get rid of the bad habits and find the good ones again. In my case it was to draw the eyes way way too big when they originally never were THAT big, so I had to learn how to draw them small and normal again. That’s why I did these, as I really needed to pay attention to the faces and remember how to draw them again:

The front-side views were another big readong for this “study” because I have drawn that perspective only once or twice before and I needed to figure out how I want to draw that. Also, I don’t know if it’s just me but for some reason the front-side Farin reminds me of one of the parent characters from this cartoon called The Rugrats which I watched as a kid. It was totally unintentional, but you can google The Rugrats if you don’t know how the charatcers looked like in the cartoon.

The things below are just me testing something. The red Farins were just to test how the colored pencils work on each other and how the fineliners work with the colored pencils, and which way is the better way to do the shading. And the red colored pencil was the only one available at the time so that had to do.

A little bit about the heads btw: You might notice some difference between the left and right faces. It’s because I have always, always struggled with drawing anything that is looking at right. Most of the animal portraits and all I have drawn so that they look at left because I just find it so much easier to draw. I think with comics it’s because I always start with the eye (and the eyebrows if I don’t forget it) and then do the forehead, nose, mouth and chin, and after that I either continue from the hair (from the front) or do the ear first. But when I am drawing them to look at right, I have to basically draw the mirror image and starting from the hair is not the key because it can easily mess up with the perspectives. I still usually draw everything in the same order but it really is difficult because I’m doing a mirror image and my own hand is on the way, too. Basically I’m drawing from right to left instead of left to right! (I think I should try drawing those with my left hand, then...)

And from here we get to the first sketch of the comic. From here on the images are from my phone’s camera so they are sometimes illegally bad but no can do, I again didn’t think I’d post these to anywhere:

Here you can see I was mainly just focusing on the shapes and the space inside those panels. Just trying to see the perspective and how everything is. The only thing that I drew more precisely was the third panel, with the hand and phone. I had quite a nice memory of old phones in my head but I still googled for some reference photos of Nokia 5110 phones as that was my first phone (as I mentioned earlier), and I also happened to have some of my other old phones on the table nearby so I took my own hand reference photos too:

They always say there’s a little bit of the artist in their art and this one literally has that - “Farin’s” hand is actually my hand! :D And I think the size is kinda on point too because this phone was like 2-3 times smaller than Nokia 5110 and I have small hands, and I believe Farin must have much bigger hands, so the 5110 probably would have looked about the same size in his hand.

After the first sketch, the next step was then - the second sketch:

I also wanted to add more action to the panels so that it’s interesting to look at and not just basically the same panel over and over again with just different speech bubbles, so I came up with the idea of Farin spitting out his tea not being as cartoony as it could be and that he would have to actually clean it up instead of just leaving it there just because in cartoons/comics everything is possible. That way I got more depth into the panels and it was also interesting for me to draw because I drew lots of new postures I have never drawn before, and I’m surprised how well it went despite me not even looking for any kind of reference photos! The only things I used reference photos for were the beach chair, and the phone in a hand. (I have actually always been quite good at drawing 3D objects and spaces, especially if they are rectangular.)

So yeah, this is the phase where everything is then finished with pencil and what follows next is drawing the lines with fineliners - I use Sakura Pigma Micron fineliners for everything else, and black Promarker for doing the lines for the panels (and also if I need bigger pitch black areas done).

Here are the panel lines done but I only had a photo of this first sheet.

And here are both sheets with the finelining done and all pencil marks etc. erased. I really like this part because it looks so clean when all those sketch marks are gone. It’s also crazy to think I literally spend hours drawing something in pencil only to erase it all away later :D

And here’s one photo of the coloring process, the first one has only the base colors done but none of the shadows yet (apart from the shirts), and the second one has some of the shadows done but not everything yet.

Usually after coloring, I will then go through everything with the fineliners one more time to make sure all the lines are dark enough as it just gives everything the finished yet a bit “sketchy” look that what I really like with my comics. The actual last detail is always adding my signature along with the date or year.

And here’s the finished comic one more time for comparison:

Don’t forget to check and reblog the actual post about this comic if you read this post all the way here. I’d appreaciate that a lot since art and artist on Tumblr are not really that much appreciated.

[imme-youareyou]

Oh god, I'm so sorry in advance.

Ciao sono io, la ragazza fastidiosa che ha pensato di digitare il testo in google translator e vedere cosa viene fuori. Non voglio sapere quanto fosse sbagliato tutto ciò che è stato tradotto o quello che ti ho appena scritto, ma forse puoi riderci sopra. I'm sorryyyy and I love you haha 🧡

Please tell me there was actually some correct words and/or syntax in there haha. I really need and want to learn italian though, so who knows, maybe I will actually text you in italian some time in the future. What I actually wanted to do was send you some of the asks for the writers ask game, because I love to hear/read you talking about your writing. 🧡

So without further ado and loads of time later: 🧑, 🏆 and 🎁.

Te amoooo 🧡

(I'm gonna stop embarassing myself with my nonexistent italian knowledge now)

That is actually pretty good for google translate (just a tense in one of the sentences is wrong but everything else is really well translated ahah)

You know what? I'm going to answer your questions both in English and Italian.

🧑 favorite character to write? Personaggio preferito da scrivere?

My favorite character to write is definitely Lando. First of all because we are very similar and I often see myself in his mannerism and the way he deals with other people and his life. When I write I always try to identify myself with what I want to write in order to best convey what the character feels or is experiencing and with him everything comes much easier. And let's be honest, it's also a lot of fun to write about someone as clumsy and cute as he is.

Il mio personaggio preferito da scrivere è sicuramente Lando. Prima di tutto perchè siamo molto simili e mi rivedo spesso nei suoi modi di fare e di porsi con le altre persone e nella vita. Dato che quando scrivo cerco sempre di immedesimarmi in quello che voglio scrivere per poter trasmettere al meglio quello che il personaggio prova o sta vivendo, con lui mi viene tutto molto più facile. E poi, siamo sinceri, è anche molto divertente scrivere di una persona impacciata e carina come lui.

🏆 fic youre most proud of? Fic di cui sei più fiera?

This is a very tricky question because (don't kill me please), it is difficult for me to be proud of what I write. One fic that I can say I'm proud of is Ops, I did it again because for the first time I managed to insert pictures and create something different that I have always admired in other fanfictions but that I didn't think I was able to achieve.

Questa domanda è molto difficile perchè (non uccidermi ti prego), è difficile che io sia fiera di quello che scrivo. Una fic di cui però posso dire di essere fiera è Ops, I did it again perchè sono riuscita per la prima volta ad inserire delle immagini e a creare qualcosa di diverso che ho sempre ammirato in altre fanfiction ma che non pensavo di essere in grado di raggiungere.

🎁 have a quote from a WIP? Un passaggio preso da una WIP?

The gust of wind that raised all the dust and forced him to look at those old photographs arrived one afternoon post free practices, and with a suspiciously Australian accent.

In retrospect, Lando can affirm with certainty that his relapse is all Daniel’s fault, and of no one else but his teammate.

La folata di vento che ha sollevato tutta la polvere e lo ha costretto a guardare quelle vecchie fotografie è arrivata un pomeriggio dopo le prove libere, e con un accento sospettosamente australiano.

In retrospettiva, Lando può affermare con certezza che la sua ricaduta è tutta colpa di Daniel, e di nessun altro se non del suo compagno di squadra.

Which one of the WIP do you think is this from? Let me know 🤣

You know what? Since it's "try to understand Italian day" I'm going to leave you a bit of the madness that is the in progress part of the work in progress. The part where I write some bits in English some other bits in Italian. This time I'm not going to translate it.. I'll just leave it here like this. Good luck

Hanno two weeks stop e Lando va a casa, svegliarsi nel suo letto bla bla cose, apre IG come first thing in the morning e vede storia di Carlos “legs day” e tutto ciò che ne consegue → trova una compilation di legs day → rubbing on the mattress → suonano al doorbell Lando lo ignora → Carlos ha ancora le chiavi sale e lo becca → embarassed Lando perchè Carlos ha visto il video che stava guardando... TO BE CONTINUED

Thank you so much for your ask and for taking the time to try and translate the first bit

Love you lots 🧡

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Aviva and Jungkook go to Los Angeles for a month.

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts.

[Masterlist]

Interlude 4: Love in LA

summer - keshi

“Feel like summer and I don't wanna miss you

If we don’t touch lips, not an issue”

July-August 2012

When it was decided Jungkook and his choreographer teacher would go to Los Angeles to train from July to August, Aviva was asked if she wanted to go along as a translator. All she needed to do was pass the international driving test and she was good to go.

Not having been home, or seen her family in some time, Aviva took the opportunity to take a few days off to meet them in San Francisco.

Aviva and Namjoon spent plenty of time with Jungkook going over easier common English phrases that he might need to use during the trip.

Aviva and Jungkook had plenty of time to practice English over the 13 hour flight, although they also watched several movies, napped, ate snacks, drew, and compared plane travel playlists.

Jungkook, Son Sungdeuk, and Aviva were staying in a dorm room provided by Movement Lifestyle, the dance company they were learning with. It seemed like the booking agent hadn’t been aware that the room was for two guys and a girl. There was one bedroom with a bunk bed, and a small common living space with a pullout couch. Aviva took the couch, and though she felt a little uncomfortable at first, she quickly adjusted. There was only so much of doing a person’s laundry twice a week before you got over any awkwardness, and besides, they were all too busy to feel awkward. While Jungkook and Sungdeuk focused on dance, Aviva was essentially acting as a full time translator, along with managing meals, travel, and business opportunities.

Jungkook was also feeling stressed out, having double the language barrier with both English and a lot of complex dance terminology. Aviva studied hard so that she could help him better.

They would wake up early in the morning to research terms at a nearby Korean restaurant, where Jungkook said he felt less homesick.

On the weekends they had free time, and ran around by the ocean. Sometimes Sungdeuk would treat them for a meal, sometimes they’d go off by themselves.

On the second Sunday both Aviva and Sungdeuk had business meetings. Jungkook asked Aviva if she could drop him off at the beach still. She was worried about him wondering around alone, but when she picked him up he excitedly told her about meeting a restaurant owner who was Korean, and gave him a free lemonade.

Two weeks before the trip ended, Aviva and Jungkook were coming out of the dance studio for a lunch break when someone suddenly ran at her.

Aviva caught her in a hug, the girl’s legs wrapping around her waist as she laughed.

“Oh my God! I haven’t seen you in person in forever! Your hair got so long! Are you surprised?”

“Ah… noona, are you okay?” Jungkook asked nervously in Korean.

“Jen…” Aviva hugged her back, rubbing her back for a moment before letting go. “Yeah, you did surprise me, can I put you down now? You’re scaring Jungkook.”

“Who?” Jenny wondered.

“My co-worker. My friend. He’s standing behind you, confused.”

“Oh…” Jenny slid off of her, looking sheepishly at Jungkook. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there…” She blushed.

Jungkook continued looking confusedly at Aviva.

“This is my little sister,” Aviva told him in Korean. “She’s your age.”

“Oh!” Jungkook bowed slightly. “Um… nice to meet you!” He held out his hand. Jenny shook it, chewing at the inside of her cheek.

For the next week Aviva spent any free moments with her sister. Jenny was staying at her friend’s house nearby. She joined Aviva and Jungkook for breakfast, Jungkook shyly pointing out his favorite dishes on the menu, Jenny impressing him with her high spice tolerance. Jenny met them during their lunch break as well, picking up food and eating with them quickly on the studio’s front stoop. Aviva would leave with her for an hour or so, to the beach, or window shopping, while Jungkook went back inside for practice.

At night the sisters stayed up late chatting in Jenny’s friend’s living room, eating cartoons of ice cream and giggling about nothing.

On Saturday, Jenny joined Aviva and Jungkook on this week’s excursion. At first Jenny and Jungkook awkwardly followed Aviva through museum, not quite looking at each other or speaking. Then they both got excited by an empty staircase and wanted Aviva to take pictures of them on it. From that moment on, the two found they had a lot in common, from singing, to photography, even to skateboarding! When Jenny mentioned she had wanted to take up skateboarding recently, Jungkook said he’d always wanted to try. On Sunday the two of them went and bought skateboards and practiced together.

Aviva was surprised when Jenny texted her that she’d fallen, and Jungkook was overreacting. She rushed downstairs to find Jungkook carrying Jenny on his back towards the dorm as Jenny complained, her face bright red.

“How do you say idiot in Korean?” Jenny huffed. “I just skinned my knees, he doesn’t need to fucking carry me!”

Aviva laughed. “Your face!”

“Shut up!” Jenny said.

“…Pabo,” Aviva said. Jungkook blinked. “Both of you are idiots… come inside, I’ve got a first aid kit.”

Jungkook finally put Jenny down when Aviva insisted she would be fine. Jenny sat on the toilet in the dorm’s bathroom. Jungkook hovered in the doorway until Aviva shut the door on him.

“I don’t get it,” Jenny muttered. “He was so shy at first, now all of a sudden he’s picking me up and practically running us back here…”

“He’s a passionate kid,” Aviva said, cleaning off Jenny’s knees. “He gets protective over people he cares about.”

“Okay, sure,” Jenny said. “But we’ve only known each other for a week…”

Aviva shrugged. “I’ve always told you you’re a very lovable person.”

“Shut up,” Jenny said again, shoving her. Aviva just smiled.

The last week of the trip, Aviva had been planning to meet her family in San Francisco. However, seeing how well Jungkook and Jenny got along, she talked to her parents, and they came to visit in LA instead.

Jungkook joined them for dinner one night.

“Are you sure I don’t need to dress up or anything?” Jungkook asked, pulling at his t-shirt.

Aviva shook her head. “It’s a casual restaurant. Just chill,” she said. Jungkook swallowed. Aviva sighed and gave him a quick hug. “What are you scared of?”

He shrugged. “It just feels… weird. Can’t explain it. Sorry.”

“Don’t have to be sorry,” Aviva told him. “Remember to breath. They won’t bite.”

By the time dinner ended, Aviva’s mother had given Jungkook resources for learning English, and Aviva’s father had suggested some old comics for him to read.

“…I think dad was more excited to talk to you than to me,” Jenny said as she walked Jungkook and Aviva back to the dorm. “And I haven’t seen him in a while…”

Jungkook looked confusedly at Aviva, who translated. He shook his head. “I’m sure that’s not true!” He said in Korean. Aviva sighed and translated again.

Jenny looked at Jungkook, her face scrunched up in what Aviva recognized as a look of determination.

“Avi—do you mind if me and JK go to that ice cream place down the block by ourselves? We’ll bring you back something if you want, I just… want to talk to him a bit by myself.”

Aviva titled her head. “How will you say whatever you want to say?” She wondered.

“…We’ll do our best with Google Translate and charades,” Jenny decided. Aviva nodded.

“Okay, text me.”

Aviva waited up for Jungkook in the living room. She could already hear Sungdeuk snoring in the other room by the time he came back.

“Your parents picked her up at the ice cream place,” Jungkook told her when he saw her sitting up looking at her laptop.

“I know, she texted me.” Aviva held up her phone. She looked at him expectantly.

He sighed. “Do we have to talk about it?”

Aviva shook her head. “I trust you guys.”

Jungkook smiled.

“Okay. Thank you. I’m going to sleep now.”

By the time the trip was over, Jenny looked almost sadder to see Jungkook go than Aviva.

“That’s not true!” Jenny said when Aviva accused her of this at the airport. “I’ll miss you both, really!” Aviva started to translate but Jungkook waved his hand, blushing.

“I understand,” he said to her in Korean, before turning to Jen, his smile bittersweet as he told her in English, “I miss you.” Both his comprehension and pronunciation had improved a lot over the course of a month.

Jenny took his hand in hers, smiling back at him.

Aviva squinted at them. “Do I have to give you both the, ‘if you hurt them I’ll hurt you’ speech, or can we skip that, cause it’s kind of awkward for me?”

“I vote skipping,” Jenny said, raising her hand without missing a beat. Aviva repeated her question in Korean, looking at Jungkook.

He waved his hands emphatically. “Yeah, no, let’s not do that, I agree.”

Aviva was pleasantly surprised to find Jin, Namjoon, and Soonyoung waiting for them at the airport when they touched down in Seoul.

“Your hair!” Soonyoung squealed at such a high pitch that Namjoon winced, and Jin’s eyes went wide.

“Ah, is that what you use all your vocal training for, Soonyoung-ssi?” Namjoon grumbled, rubbing his ear. Her eyes narrowed at him.

“Yeah, bet I could make even you hit that note with a good swift kick between the—”

“Okay, okay,” Jin said nervously. He looked around. “Eh, what happened to Sungdeuk-seonsaengnim?”

“Bathroom,” Jungkook said.

“Anyway,” Soonyoung continued. “How can you not be excited by how cute Avi’s hair is!” She squealed again, a little less loudly this time, touching the short ends of Avi’s new shoulder length hair. “You haven’t cut it in years—what happened?”

Jungkook flushed. “Ah, that’s sort of my fault.”

Aviva shrugged. “It was an accident, Kookie, don’t worry about it,” she said, patting him on the arm. Namjoon looked at them questioningly. “Jungkook-ah got gum in my hair, Jenny—that’s my sister, cut it out, and it was kind of high up, so she went to even it out and… snip… snip.” Aviva motioned her fingers like scissors. Jungkook winced. “She did pretty good though, I think.”

Jungkook smiled a little dreamily. “Yeah…”

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay… Anyway, girl, let’s get home. You must be tired. And if you’re hungry, Jin-oppa gave us some leftover stir-fry, for some reason, so you can eat that in the car, if you want.”

“Oh. Thanks, oppa,” Aviva said to him.

He smiled.

“No problem. For some reason, I keep making too much recently, so…”

Namjoon shook his head, smiling slightly. “It’s Jungkookie. He eats the most. Now that he’s back, we’ll never have any leftovers again.”

“Yah!” Jungkook protested. Aviva shrugged.

“He’s a growing boy. Gonna be taller than you someday, Joon-ah.”

“Yeah? He’s welcome to it. He’ll hit his head on the doorframe,” Namjoon thought.

“We should get going,” Soonyoung said again, linking her arm with Aviva’s.

“Ah, right, we’ll wait for seonsaengnim, then,” Jin said. “Give him a ride back, to be polite.”

“I’ll just walk you two to the exit,” Namjoon offered, taking Aviva’s bag.

“You don’t have to—” She started, but he was already walking.

“I’ll just run and get the car,” Soonyoung said as they stepped outside. “Joonie, wait with her.” Namjoon made a face at her way of addressing him, but nodded.

They stood in the muffled quiet of small groups of people getting into cars, moving along with their suitcases. “It does look good,” Namjoon said, pushing her hair back from her face. She stiffened and he stopped, drawing back.

“Thanks,” she said quietly.

“You’re not… sad to cut your hair?” He wondered. “Since it was so long…”

She shrugged. “It was a pain to take care of, actually. I was just leaving it longer because shorter hair would make me stand out more, and… well, I was feeling nervous about going to a hairdresser.”

“What makes you nervous about it?” Namjoon wondered. Aviva looked at him. His expression was completely non-judgmental, just curious.

“Well, I don’t like strangers touching me, but I can’t move, because I’m paying for a service, and then there’s the small talk…” She sighed.

“If you ever want to go, I can go with you,” Namjoon offered. She frowned. “If that would help…”

“Well, it might, but… Wouldn’t you get bored?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t remember ever feeling bored when I’m with you.”

“Namjoon…” Aviva looked at him, not sure what she was going to say, and saved the effort of figuring it out by a car pulling up in front of them, the window rolling down to reveal Soonyoung buckled into the driver’s seat. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he repeated. “I’ll see you around.”

Back at home, Soonyoung noted that the trip had done both Aviva and Jungkook well.

“You both seem to have gained a little confidence,” Soonyoung thought as they lay on Aviva bed together, Soonyoung chewing her old favorite American brand of gum and flipping through a nostalgic magazine Aviva brought back for her. “Although, that boy is still such a baby—are you sure him and Jen were interested in each other?”

“They exchanged emails, and phone numbers,” Aviva told her. “She’s shown him some lyrics she’s written, and he’s shown her a cover of a pop song he was too embarrassed to show the boys—it’s cute.”

“I can’t believe it,” Soonyoung popped her gum.

“Ew, stop, you know I hate it when you do that,” Aviva said, pushing her. Soonyoung did it again, looking her full in the eye. Aviva glared.

While she was gone, it seemed like the Bangtan lineup had finally settled. With all seven of the boys finally promised their debut, Aviva was extra happy to help Youngjin book them some side gigs for exposure, such as background dancing and writing on other artist’s songs. Aviva was nervous when the head of every managing department, as well as Bang got together to review her work.

After looking it over, Kim Byunho, Head of the Artist Management team, nodded. “My vote is yes.”

“I’m the same,” Bang Si Hyuk said.

“…Alright,” Youngjin said uncertainly.

“I would say so,” Jungsook agreed. “What do you think, Aviva-ssi, are you ready?”

“Ready?” Aviva repeated. “For what, sunbae?”

[likeawildthing]

in terms of design advice, any ideas for a broke college student apartment room? 💕💕

college is a weird time because you are kind of a grown up but also definitely not! and your interests and tastes will change so rapidly in the next few years. so honestly it’s a great time to experiment and be creative. this advice all depends on your particular space, but in any small space everything that can be double duty, should be double duty (night stand is also a tv tray/laptop tray, art is also bulletin board or jewelry holder), the more uses you can get out of something, the better! going vertical on the walls where you can get away with it is amazing. here are a few easy and cheap ways to upgrade and some basic design principles:

take this design quiz to find out your style (plug in a fake email) and then google or pinterest away. you’ll see repeat themes (for ex. major bohemian trend is macrame, which easily DIYable, or MCM is all about legs and clean profiles). maybe that would be fun post - to highlight different styles and trends. but here are some upgrades that translate to any design style for cheap:

PLANTS

don’t go to a nursery and drop a hundred dollars you don’t have. a plant or two or three you really love will change the vibe of the whole space, and give you something to take care of, which is ofc good for your mental health. tips for getting plants and planters on the cheap!

think of a relative or friend who already has houseplants and ask for free ones next time they’re splitting. i literally did my entire garden this way in my first place. 

look on like FB marketplace or whatever your swap site is because people are often selling plants or cuttings for a discount.

i have literally split the cost of a plant with a friend and then split it in half, like a baby before Solomon

pothos plants of any kind are easy to take care of and can split into smaller plants pretty regularly.

succulents are usually a few dollars at the store and everyone loves them! start with one simple succulent.

herbs! if you get herb garden seeds or plants you literally make what you eat!

if you have pets, make sure they are pet friendly.

i do not spend a lot of $$ on planters! i use terra cotta because 1. they’re cheap as hell and 2. cute! some of my favorite planters are terra cotta pots kristina painted for me! you can also thrift pots, which i would encourage, or reuse food containers by putting small holes in the bottom. 

create hanging plants by making yarn macrame holders! youtube is your friend on this! you can get a ceiling hook for like $3 if it’s a solid ceiling (drywall) and super easy to patch up when it’s time to leave.

ART

function + form. something organic that you can change out inspiration or art, like a cork or inspiration board (look on like a varage sale or in a thrift store for this).  you can get four12x12 cork boards from target for $7 and create something like this from two of them, which is in and of itself a piece of art (and you can take it down w/out damaging walls)

other cheap things i have done for art:

calendar or magazine pages in thrifted frames  (my favorite cheap tricks is to get matte black or white craft paint for $1.25 from wm or target and paint a bunch of odd frames to unify them)

a picture ledge like this from ikea is your best friend because you can interchange the art to be whatever you want!

embroidery hoop fabric bulletin boards

seriously, posters are cool. get a cheap poster online and hang it with washi tape. it’s not precious. if you want something more grown up, try to thrift a frame for it for cheap. if you don’t like the color of the frame, paint it! if you can’t hang something heavy like this on the wall, use command velcro strips OR set it on top of a dresser or bookcase and lean it against the wall.

i love tassels and buntings. just google either of those and you’ll get thousands of cheap ideas. in my last bedroom i just had a bunting i cut and made over my bed and it acted like a bedframe and i loved it.

just free prints from the internet hung up with little clips like this ($2 from target) or bulky push pins – those holes are so easy to patch!

when my kids were little until two weeks ago i had an entire wall covered with their artwork. i’m saying maybe go to the thrift store, get some ugly canvases with your friends, and have a painting party. everyone brings a $4 thing of acrylic paint and a brush and have a party. good memories + new art for everyone. swap at the end!

pictures! actually print out those pictures and tape them to the wall with washi tape. you can also do something like this with push pins for as big or small as you want to make it (i have this in my living room

here’s a proper primer on the 7 elements of design, but you can skip that and go here if you want!

BALANCE

white space and focal points. in the same way that you need to break up one massive wall of text into digestible paragraphs, you also need to break up the focus in your room. a FOCAL POINT is a statement area in your room (i.e. the window, over your bed, your desk) that your eye is drawn to, and where you want your eye to be drawn to. ideally rooms should have ONE focal point (that’s like the adverb room for writing) but in a dorm apartment, that isn’t practical because it HAS to be multifunction. the important takeaway is that white space on your walls is okay, and important. it gives you a soft space to land, visually, which is important in making you feel more relaxed and even productive.

groupings – grouping like with like makes great sense organizationally AND design wise. a collection of postcards will look amazing on the wall together rather than spread around the room. 

LAYERS

adding layers can make a space feel luxurious – curtains, rugs, extra throw pillows or an extra blanket on your bed or chair. plants are great for this, but fabrics and baskets can add another layer. these can be pricey so i would a. raid your mom’s house if that’s an option and ask if she needs ‘x’ rug or curtains anymore. you can also thrift curtains for cheapppp or even look for clearance fabric – once you wash the curtains they really are safe to use. clearance frabric can be hemmed without being sewn and hung with curtain rings if you need to. and $5 tension rods can work as a curtain rod inside a window frame if needed. i could do a whole post on this but a cheap rug next to your bed and something soft on a window can do wonders!  dude i have also bought cheap cotton weave cloth from walmart and used rit dye to make turqoise curtains and i loved for years. see also: RIT DYE

so decorative pillows are expensive as HELL but regular, cheap pillows are like $4. i get cheap fabric or thrift fabric and sew my own, which you could do by hand, really, and use the pillow stuffing to make it. ikea also sells great cheap pillow covers! 

COLOR

gosh there are no hard and fast rule here but here is a great primer series on color theory for design that you can translate to your room

simplifying a color palette will feel more calming to you, and so will using cool colors like blues and greens. but again, no hard and fast rules. repeat a color or element (shape, pattern) throughout a room 3x (ex. i have a blue rug and that same blueish tone is in a chair and also on a bookshelf. they don’t have to be the same blue, just color family, and it makes it all seem more intentional)

HOW TO DO IT CHEAPLY

buy secondhand. there are entire thrift makeover and upcycle youtube channels that are amazing! same for diy blogs. 

reuse and repurpose what you have. i turned a dvd player box into a toy oven for my kids and they used it as a play kitchen for four years. my bookshelf that stores our games in my living room was $12 from salvation army - i just painted it and added casters for $15. my dresser was a thrift from the REstore, a habitat for humanity store. my end tables are actually butcher block pieces that were in my dad’s factory for forty years. i love bringing old things back to a different life. and you don’t always need a ton of tools to do it.

barter and trade. i traded a one of my kid’s dressers for the hutch that holds our toiletries outside of our upstairs bathrooms. 

sell and repurchase something that works for you. i sold my old bookshelves on fb marketplace and bought another that actually works better. this isn’t applicable to everyone!

make muffins for someone in exchange for their sewing skills or knowledge. i’m teaching my friend to sew right now! libraries often have classes and such to learn new skills.

OK so i have rambled enough. i could ramble more. i hope this gets you started and if you have more specific or follow up questions, on this or organization side of things, let me know! remember these are all just guidelines and the most important thing is having a space you love, that makes you feel comfortable and that you’re proud of and happy in. comparing yourself to others isn’t always the best and you can make it a space you love no matter where you are. 

[otogetranslations]

Announcing of Dropping DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE;BLOOD

To sum things up:

Someone leaked the Diabolik Lovers Limited V Edition patch, posting it publicly despite all our warnings and requests. Thus we are following through with our original policy.

We’re stopping every projects related to Diabolik Lovers, including further support for Limited V Edition, and there won’t be a patch for More;Blood.

Collar x Malice Unlimited will still be released, but privately. After all, you guys will get the English version of it from Aksys for the switch next year!

I (the leader of otogetranslations) will still be helping other translators with their projects: Brothers Conflict, Hakuoki SSL. How the patch is gonna be distributed is up to their respective leaders (coquettishcat for Hakuoki SSL, and PassionandBrilliance for Brothers Conflict).

No more Black Wolves Saga. This project I (Reishiki) started by asking permission to use existing translation from orlandoblue @tumblr, Siberia (twitter.com/bakemeatz). The patch of Black Wolves Saga Bloody Nightmare is to be completed soon. But it’s no more.

Read on if you wanted to know what really happened:

As you all know, we released DIABOLIK LOVERS LIMITED V EDITION fan translation patch this August 16th, 2019 for homebrew enabled/hacked Playstation vita, and only for people that have proof or purchasing the game.

There are over 50 people who showed us the proof of purchasing the game and they received the patch for free. All we asked was for you to actually buy the game before you can play it with a hacked playstation vita.

Our 30-people team worked on the patch for 10 months. We only used outsource translation for 8/277 total scripts. Our in-house hacker did the romhacking process, our in-house proofreaders proofed the translation, our recruited translators worked on the translation. Everything was done by us and it’s our team effort. So we have the right to decide how we’re gonna distribute it.

However, on August 20th, 2019. Rojaaalice on reddit r/vitapiracy posted a thread, asking the patch to be given to them for free (without purchasing the game). A lot of people who frequent this subreddit accused us of being Gatekeepers, while all we’re doing is asking for proof of purchasing the game (not the patch, the patch is 100% free). Is buying the game you play wrong? Is asking for a proof of purchasing something you play gatekeeping, when we could have chosen to not share the patch at all in the first place?

I don’t think so.

But, this person, SilicaAndPina (https://twitter.com/SiliCart) is not happy with how we distribute our patch. He said that we should keep the vita hacking scene free, we can’t ask for people to buy anything to be able to get the PATCH that we worked on. He doesn’t play otome games in general, and he doesn’t even know what otome games is.

He started to trick me into giving the patch to him, by making a fake proof of purchase with a cloned gmail account. I noticed the proof was fake and didn’t give it to him. Then he got mad and sent this (WARNING: GORE IMAGE) to me. He stated that he will leak the patch eventually.

He attempted to acquire the patch once again with a different fake proof this time. I also noticed this and we trolled him by sending him a FAKE patch. We left the prologue in English and put ridiculous/crack fanfiction in other parts. He thought it was real and distributed it, declared he has won over us.

He thought he tricked us but no, we weren’t being tricked by his half-assed effort. 

Today, August 22nd, there is someone from the DiaLover Fandom that received the real patch sent it over to him. I’m sorry to say that the patch would be leaked eventually, one way or another, because if someone really wants to leak it, they could buy the physical copy, take a photo with it and send it to us. Then they can sell the game to get the money back. 

So, we lost.

But to the one that sent the patch to him, lost to the malice of this world, and not to him. 

I had envisioned this would happen when I first started the project. So I’m not surprised. I had a small ray of hope this wouldn’t happen so soon, but I was wrong. 

As we’ve stated before, we will cease every project translation related to DIABOLIK LOVERS.

No more patches of DIABOLIK LOVERS will be made from us, at least when I’m the leader of that project (as well as the leader of otogetranslations): Reishiki.

I’m proud to say our patch was enjoyed and praised by people that bought the game and received the patch.

I (Reishiki) will still be supporting other translators if they need it, but I won’t start any new project from now on (in which could be AMNESIA LATER/CROWD/WORLD, VARIABLE BARRICADE - these games I completed extracting the texts with our inhouse hacker’s help, and I planned to announce we would start one of these projects soon. But… I’m sorry to say that it’s no more. At least it won’t be made available to the public.)

Thank you everyone for your support.

These are our team members opinions:

JokerTrap-Ran: I think I just lost faith in the community as a whole again, coming back after 4 years. I hope you’re happy! This was really demoralising and I hope ya’ll had fun putting us down like that. I’m not one for drama and honestly I’d very much like to stay out of it considering the bad medicine bashing that happened on otome reddit about 3 years ago. I’ll continue releasing translations for blog’s followers but that’s it. I’m whimsical, and most of my followers know it. I pick things and I drop it all the same. 

Khikari: For those who thinks that what we have committed is blasphemy and should be shut down for this, great, please take the time to learn Japanese yourself. Or learn to care about other people with emotions for once in you life. Demoralising people who were willing to work endless hours for free with just one condition sure is satisfying, isn’t it? It really hurt all of us. For those who genuinely cared and are saddened by this post, I am sorry and I wish the best for you all. I know that the few doesn’t represent all but this is a massive motivation killer, and I don’t need this drama in my life. From now on, private translations all the way! Also, Silica, attacking an idea is fine, but attacking people with malicious intent is stepping out of line. Enjoy being a rock specimen.

LoliChan195: I hope you are happy with what you have done! We only wanted to bring this out for people that had difficulties playing the game, and also help support Rejet by having more people buy their games. Its people like you that cause all these game companies to go bankrupt! (Also SiliCar, you sick fuck. Who sends pictures like that!? XD you’re probably just some edgy 12yr old XD Besides, who says WE WILL NOT FORGIVE XD what a dumbass! And is it that hard to search on google about the game? Why would we make it so it specifically needs to be the limited edition?!?! ) Seriously, the people who attacked us for putting the rule out are just as bad, like can’t you just wait and buy the game? Or even if u just pirate it, read online translations. Its not that hard! 

Hermy: Nothing much to say, except, ya’ll could have totes pirated the game and played it along the translations available on the net. Welp, I hope you don’t dislike that idea too much because that’s what ya’ll gonna need to do if ya’ll wanna play the sequels.

PS: the MB translations available on the net are riddled with errors, but by all means have fun with them :)

Anon: Oh yes, silica? Perhaps you should just lead on with your true intentions next time instead of trying to honey your words and do some "re-con"  for dots, yeah? 

Marzi: I'm a bit numb to this situation at this point, but it is disheartening to know Silica was so intent on distributing our translations that he didn't stop even when we threatened to cease all translations. It wasn't like he was ever going to play the game - he just felt so personally offended by the fact that we were "gatekeeping" for some reason - which, in my opinion, is a bit of an immature reason to ruin a translation group. You can't argue that we're "unrightfully holding something when we don't have the intellectual rights," when you're bypassing all copyright laws as well in wanting to post it PUBLICALLY. But what's done is done - whoever manages to get a copy of this, I hope you enjoy it. Please know so much effort and passion went into these translations, and that we loved working on this project every bit of the way. If the game leaves you antsy for More Blood well LOL you know who prevented that from happening.

Sonic-nancy-fan: I never knew someone could have such an illogical mindset. Silica/PSSDude made the original base repatch program, and we used one that someone had edited and added to (which Silica was fine with). But, because he made the original one, that means he feels like HE can getekeep all uses of variations of it. This would be like saying people can’t use paper to make a paper airplane because the original creator of paper said no, or you can’t print manga because Gutenberg said no. Also, who in the world thinks they can take a moral high-ground by telling us to promote piracy? Patches are already a sort of grey area, so we were trying to take the most legal method available while still making a patch. I know in modern society, piracy is very common, but I can’t imagine your average person would call us in the wrong for trying to hinder piracy. God forbid we try to get people to buy Diabolik Lovers. I can’t say I’m shocked as I expected it to get leaked sometime. I’m just saddened at certain people’s general hate and unyielding desire to leak it. So, I don’t blame the community as a whole, nor do I feel any malice toward the community (we had a lot of people buy the game and get excited). I’m just mad at very specific spiteful people. Also, if I ever hear someone say “the scene” as much as Silica, I’m going to go nuts. It sounds like something the “cool guy” in an 80’s show would say.

[mermaidxatxheart]

I Wish

Chapter three is here. I will make this short and sweet. @i-have-arrived-bitch has harassed me into posting more of this story ;) honestly it didn’t take much convincing. 

Word Count: 4.579

Warnings: descriptions of vomiting, swearing, probably terribly translated Romanian. I used google translate and tried very very very hard to pick through the meanings and actual definitions of words to use the right ones, but it’s still google translate, so if I did it wrong I’m so sorry. I tried and feel free to send me a message and correct me, because there’s going to be a lot of it in this story, so I could use the help before I post it. I’m very nice, I won’t bite if you drop me a message and say hey, thought you should know it should be said this way and I”m happy to fix it. 

Chapter Three

Harry

I heaved a sigh and tossed another pamphlet on the coffee table. I really didn’t want to do this, but I needed to face the music.

 “What was up with Si this morning?” Liam asked, glancing up at me.

“I have no idea. Who knows what she was on. She came home at three this morning, obviously drunk as hell. But from the way she was acting this morning, I would say she probably took something,” I dropped my head backwards onto the couch to stare at the ceiling.

 I felt Liam watching me. I knew it was hard on him to see Sirena going through such a hard time, he was one of her best friends. Hell, all of my friends loved her, especially Liam, Niall, Louis and Zayn.

“You two will get through this, mate,” he said, trying to be helpful.

“What if she’s cheating?” I blurted, voicing a thought that had been nagging at me since we got home for this hiatus. I knew the reality of that being true was slim, but Sirena was so far out of my league, part of me just kept thinking she was going to find someone better, someone on her level.

“Harold, if there’s one thing you don’t need to worry about, it’s Sirena cheating. That girl loves you,” Liam said positively.

 “So, what the hell happened? She was fine only a few months ago. And then this… drinking, partying, maybe drugs… all out of nowhere,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. I looked suspiciously at Liam, a thought occurring to me.

 He seemed to feel my gaze and looked up. “What?” he asked.

“You two are awfully close,” I commented and he rolled his eyes.

“Harry, I’m not sleeping with your girlfriend,” he said exasperatedly.

 I waved my hand, pushing that aside. I had moved on. “No. I didn’t think you would. I just meant that she considers you one of her best friends. She would tell you things she might not necessarily tell me, right? So… has she mentioned anything happening lately?”

“Oh,” his face relaxed as he realized I wasn’t accusing him. “No. She hasn’t said anything to me. If something happened that was bad enough to make her start drinking like that, I would have told you. I don’t care how close she and I are. If it puts her health at risk, screw secrets, mate.”

“So. What do you think?” I asked.

 He closed the pamphlet he was reading and studied my face for a minute.  “I think something big happened to her a few months ago. An event or some huge news that’s bad enough that she doesn’t want to talk about it and this is how she’s dealing with it. You know her as well as I do. When she’s upset about something, the worse it is-the less she talks about it. And if she’s not telling you, then it’s really bad.”

 I frowned. What could be so bad that she doesn’t want to talk to me about it?

 “If you want, I can talk to her,” he offered.

“Maybe, but not right now,” I blew out another sigh and dropped head backwards again. “I love the girl and everything, but sometimes, I think she tries to push me to the breaking point.”

“Why would she do that?” he asked.

“I think she’s trying to see how far she can push me until I leave. Until enough is enough.”

“And are you there?”

 I looked at him and shook my head. “You don’t give up on the people you love.” I said evenly. My phone started ringing on the side table next to Liam, he glanced at the screen before tossing it to me.

“Dani,” he said and I answered, wondering why she was calling me.

“Hey, Danielle.”

“Your girlfriend stood me up,” she snapped. “I texted her to see what time she wanted to go pick up our dresses for that release party and she never answered. Unless she’s still asleep.”

 I closed my eyes. “No, she was awake when I left, but I do know she said she wasn’t feeling well,” I said, covering for Sirena.

 It wasn’t like her to just ignore Danielle. Even after Liam and Dani split, we all still remained friends. And much to everyone’s surprise, she became one of Sirena’s best friends.

“She could have at least answered me back,” she grumbled.

“Agreed. I’ll check on her in a little bit to make sure she’s okay,” I said. “Mind if I pick your brain really quick?” I asked. If Sirena hadn’t gone to Liam, she had two other people she might talk to about what’s bothering her: Danielle Peazer or Niall Horan, one of my other bandmate and best friends.

“Go ahead. If you’re thinking about looking for a mental health facility to stick her in instead, I know just the one to put her in.”

 I snorted. “Maybe later. Has she mentioned anything major to you? Anything a while back?”

“Nope. Everything’s fine,” she answered.

“Okay. Thanks, Dani,” we hung up and I looked over at Liam.

“What happened?” he asked.

“She’s ignoring Dani for some reason. I swear, I don’t know what to do with this girl,” I sighed.

“Wanna take a break and go see Zayn? That might cheer you up,” he suggested.

 I nodded, standing up and he clapped me on the shoulder. “Yeah. I’ll call her in a bit to see if she’s actually okay. We’ve only been gone three hours. How much trouble can she get into?” I asked rhetorically, following him out the door. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

 Sirena

I looked at my phone screen as Harry’s face popped up. I bit my lip and declined the call. I was almost to my Gran’s house, according to my GPS and I couldn’t be distracted by Mr. Perfect.

 I turned down a barely visible road, trees so thick they blocked out the overcast sky. About a mile down the secret road, there was a huge stone wall, like a gate house with a gothic wrought iron fence blocking the road. I slowed down as I approached, wondering how I was going to get in when the gate creaked open. A light was flashing on my dashboard and I realized it was an automatic remote sensor. I drove in and followed the massive length of the driveway. It led to a round-about with a little flower bed around a beautiful stone fountain. The house was, in fact, a manor done in a very traditional gothic style.

 A stone vestibule extended from the door out over the gravel drive, protecting the drivers from the rain. I parked under it and got out, grabbing my bags and ringing the doorbell. My grandmother answered, her face lighting up into a huge smile when she realized it was me.

 “Oh, my sweet înger,” she greeted, pulling me into a tight hug.

 I wasn’t feeling much like an angel today, but I kept that to myself. Now was not the time for sarcastic comments. I hugged her back, happy to have something familiar near me.

 “Hi, Gran.”

 She let me go and held me at arm’s length. “This is a nice surprise,” she commented. “Come. Put down your bags. I’ll make you food,” she said, pulling me inside.

 The foyer was massive, dark cherry woods formed archways leading to different areas of the house. The ceiling was slightly domed, designed like a Japanese geisha umbrella. I could almost picture this being a house in Romania. I was turning, trying to take everything in at once, but at the mention of food, my stomach churned uncomfortably.

“Actually, I’m not that hungry. My stomach is pretty upset. But I will take some water, if you don’t mind,” I said, setting my bags in one of the arm chairs next to the grand staircase.

“Fine, but you’re too skinny. You turn sideways and that handsome young man of yours is going to lose you.”

I rolled my eyes as I followed her to what was presumably the kitchen.

 “Is he here with you?” she asked, glancing around as if maybe he were hiding.

 “No. He stayed home,” I said, feeling myself getting anxious about telling her why I was here. She was never as big as a believer as her mother.

 “That’s too bad. When are you going to make me some grandbabies?” she asked and I felt my face heat up.

 “Maybe someday, Gran. Is Nan home? I have a problem,” I said as we entered the most beautiful kitchen I had ever seen. It was my dream kitchen if I could ever design one. I felt my jaw fall open slightly.

The ceiling was dark wood while the cabinets were a warm chestnut brown. The walls were granite stone blocks fading from a dark brown to a white cream color and rough, not smooth. The counter was granite slabs of the same colors, matching beautifully with the walls and the stone tiles that made up the floor.

The island in the center was massive, about six feet long and four feet wide with drawers on one side, bookshelves at either end for cook books and a microwave underneath across from the stove with cabinet space on either side. On top was a sink, a fruit basket and a cutting board, ready for use. On the other side of the kitchen was more counter space with a secondary sink, dishwasher and a large arched window looking out over the massive rolling backyard. A matching breakfast bar ran the width of the back of the kitchen and I could very easily see myself getting comfortable in a life here.

“No. She’ll be home soon. Sirena, what’s the matter?” she asked, looking at me.

“I’m in love with this kitchen.” I said, walking around the island.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen it before,” she laughed.

“Just… in constant awe,” I lied.

“Have a sit,” she pointed to the breakfast bar and went to the tall cabinets, pulling on one, which turned out to be the fridge. She filled a glass of water and set it in front of me.

“Thank you.”

 She sat next to me as I took a small sip. “Is it Harry’s?” She asked and I choked.

“What?”

“The baby that’s making you sick enough to rush up here on short notice. Is it Harry’s?”

“I’m not pregnant. This is way worse.”

“Something you need Nan for?” she raised an eyebrow.

 I nodded, feeling my stomach climbing into my throat. I didn’t trust myself to speak as I covered my mouth.

“Your eyes always lose their sparkle when you’re sick,” she looked at me curiously. “Bathroom is through that door and to the left,” she pointed without looking.

 I rushed to find it, emptying my stomach once more. I quickly rinsed my mouth out when I was done and I could hear voices in the kitchen. I went back out and reclaimed my seat as Nan was putting things away in the cupboards. I always loved seeing my Nan. As a team, they taught us Romanian from a young age because she only ever speaks her native language.

“Ah, fata frumoasa mea, când ai ajuns aici?” she asked, hurrying over to give me a big hug.

“She said-“ Gran started.

“She wanted to know how long I’ve been here. I know. I remember my lessons, Gran,” I said with a smile, turning to my great grandmother. “I got here about five or ten minutes ago. I haven’t been here long, Nan,” I promised and she smiled happily, pulling back to take a good look at me.

 She searched my face, her smile fading. “Arati diferit,” she commented and I frowned.

“What do you mean ‘I look different’? Different how?” I asked, confused.

“Ești o versiune diferită de tine.”

“A different version? Yes! Nan-that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about!” I said excitedly, realizing she would actually believe me.

“Oh, mama,” Gran started, waving her hand.

“No, Gran. She’s right. That’s why I’m here. Yesterday-I was living in Texas and single. And then I have this crazy dream and I wake up dating Harry Styles, and living with him in London for a year,” I said, my eyes starting to fill with tears. I hate crying. I tried to blink back the tears of frustration as Nan perked up when I mentioned a dream.

“Vis? În ea a fost acolo o mulțime de ceață?” she asked.

“Yes! There was so much mist I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face and it tingled, like static. And then this thing started chasing me so I ran.” I recalled, seeing the dream vividly in my mind. “Then images started flashing on either side of my path, like projections on movie screens and I heard someone calling my name.”

“Who was it?” Grandma asked, leaning forward on her elbows interestedly.

“Harry. I felt like it was coming home after months of being apart when I saw him. I couldn’t breathe, it felt so real.”

“Because you love him.”

“Gran, I didn’t even know him before this morning,” I sighed, brushing away the tears that spilled over.

“Spune-mi ce sa întâmplat în continuare.”

“Okay, so next I reached a bridge. This dilapidated, broken wooden rope bridge that looked like it hadn’t been touched in two hundred years. Harry was on the other side, so I crossed it and then I was struck by lightning. Harry and I both fell over the edge. Then I woke up on my father’s couch in a stranger’s apartment in a country that I’ve never even been to.” Gran sat back and looked at her mother.

“Mama, you don’t think,” Gran started.

“Fulger? În cazul în care a făcut-o ai lovi?”

“On my shoulder,” I said, gesturing to the back side of my left shoulder.

“Show her, child,” Gran urged and I pulled my jacket off.

 I pulled my arm out of my sleeve and lifted up my shirt to expose my back as they both walked behind me. Nan’s cold fingers touched my bare shoulder lightly and I winced.

“That’s where it’s been hurting all day,” I said quietly.

“Your scar hurts?” Gran asked.

“What scar? I don’t have a scar back there.”

“You were struck by lightning when you were seven. You don’t remember?” she asked.

“Gran, except for my Dream-I’ve never been hit by lightning,” I said seriously.

“Show me how to take a picture on that fancy phone of yours. I can never remember,” she held out her hand and I pulled out my cell.

 I ignored the voicemail from Harry and opened the camera app. “Just push this button right here,” I showed her and moved my long hair out of the way.

 Nan lifted my shirt more and I heard the click of the camera.

“Here,” Gran handed my phone back and I pulled up the photo.

 Starting at my left shoulder and spreading down and across my back was what looked like a lightning bolt. Not the aluminum foil kind in a school play, I’m talking the ‘turn-night-into-day’ kind in the sky. Ugly, purple splotches spread around the impact site and the scar itself was pink and angry looking, which means it was still fresh.

“I’ve never had that scar before, Nan.”

 She came back around to face me, her look very serious.

 “I remember the stories you used to tell us, about Ivan, about being able to change things by wishing. The power you talked about, you never came out and said it, but it was magic, wasn’t it?” I guessed and she nodded.

“Ivan kept a journal about all the wishes he made in the dreams. We can get them for you if you want. I just don’t know how much good it’s going to do for you,” Gran said uncertainly.

 “Because he didn’t change everything around him in a nap” I said and she nodded.

 “For two hundred years, Ivan and his descendants kept journals about wishing, describing each dream and wish they made. The journals include more than just that, though. Day to day occurrences that affect the dreams and wishes. Then all of a sudden, they just stop. No more wishing and no more journals. The stories were passed down as just that, stories. The journals were kept safe and preserved, just in case the magic came back.”

 I felt my stomach starting to act up again. “Why?” I asked, my muscles jangling.

“Who knows? Maybe they had a lemon of a kid who didn’t get the gift, or didn’t believe. Maybe they decided we had enough money so they didn’t need to keep wishing. For whatever reason, the magic stopped for two hundred years. Until you.”

“Why me?” I asked, trying to control my shaking.

 “Prin toate drepturile, ar trebui să fie mort.” Nan said.

 I felt the blood drain from my face. “Dead? Why should I be dead?” I exclaimed, my voice cracking slightly.

“Mama!” Gran scolded. She looked back at me, but there was no avoiding this answer. “There was one account of a family member who died during his dream. Someone filled in the journal telling of how miserable he was without the girl he loved. So he tried to wish her back to life, or himself into a new life where she was still alive. The theory was, the stress of such a big wish was what killed him.”

 I opened my mouth, but she clearly wasn’t done.

 “But why you survived, now that’s curious. Maybe the magic was building up all this time like carbonation behind a cork. Maybe you were really unhappy in your life and your wishing was just so much that it turned it back on like a light switch,” she shrugged. “Or maybe you’re incredibly powerful. I mean-you changed your whole life. Not just dreaming of investments, but your whole life, complete with memories,” she continued and I shook my head.

“All of my memories are from my old life.”

“The memories I mean are the ones you described in your dream. The projections on the mist. But in all the accounts I’ve read, I’ve never heard of mist that thick. And you said the bridge was broken down.”

“I’m confused,” I held up my hand, pausing them. “Be right back,” I hurried to the bathroom once more. I rinsed out my mouth once I was done and my phone started ringing. I jumped and pulled it out to see Harry’s face. I bit my bottom lip and declined the call again. I didn’t want to talk to him and say something really wrong. Not at least until I had time to adjust. I went back out and Gran frowned.

“Was that Harry calling?” she asked. I nodded.

“Probably freaking out about where his girlfriend is,” I muttered. “Do we know where she went?” I asked.

“She is you. You’re still the same person, she just has more memories than you, different ones. You should talk to him. You’ll feel better,” she said as I took my seat again.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. My throat was raw and sore from vomiting so often today.

“We’ll explain more tomorrow. But for now, you should call Harry and rest.”

“But what if I say something totally wrong?”

“So, make him do all the taking. It will help you sleep,” she said confidently.

“Why?”

“Am putea spune despre boală înainte de a merge,” Nan said and my brown eyes widened.

“Illness? Yes, tell me about the illness. I knew this was killing me,” I muttered. Gran gave her mother another look.

“It’s not a big deal, nothing life threatening, înger,” she said, placating me.

“Considering that I should be dead and I can’t stop throwing up, please tell me.”

“Ivan would get these headaches after his wishes. Not your average headaches, these were bad-in bed for days bad. They would stop once the investments started paying off. It’s just a side effect of separation from what you wished for, for some reason, and as far as we can tell-the bigger the wish the more severe the illness.”

“Great. So what do I do?”

“Spend time with Harry. He’s clearly what you wished for. He’ll make you better. Some of Ivan’s kids described what felt like a clicking in their chest the exact moment the illness stopped.”

 I nodded and stood up.

 “We’ll explain more tomorrow,” Gran added, standing up as well and leading me towards the stairs.

“Gran, what about Alek?” I asked.

“He’s good. Studying in Cardiff at the moment. They have a wonderful genealogy program there.”

 I breathed a little sigh of relief. “Do I still speak to him?” I asked hopefully.

“Yes, but he’s not a fan of your boyfriend,” she said with a chuckle. “I’ve seen the way that young man looks at you and I can see why Aleksei is so protective,” she added, leading me down a long hallway and through a doorway into a very impressive bedroom. It had a California king four post bed that looked absolutely to die for. At the foot of the bed was a couch in front of a fireplace. A small, two-person glass table sat off to the side in a little alcove.

“This is mine all the time?” I asked, setting my bags on the bed.

“Yes. Your sister has the room next door and your brother down the hall. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I like to sleep in, but my crazy mother rises early. Michael gets here at about ten. Yes, you’ve met him before.”

 I nodded. “Who’s Michael?” I asked.

“He comes in to clean for us,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows and from her tone, I expect Michael will be very good looking.

“Okay.”

 She kissed my cheek and left, closing the door behind her. I grabbed my pajamas, an oversized tee shirt and some boy short panties, and changed, picturing Harry’s face the whole time. It was still pretty early, but after a whole day of being sick, I was exhausted.

“I wonder what you’re doing,” I murmured, grabbing my toothbrush and going to the en-suite bathroom. I quickly brushed my teeth and got comfy in bed. I dialed Harry’s number and waited for him to answer. I could do this. I was still the same person. I mean, honestly, how much could I have changed? The ringing stopped and there was silence on the other end for a moment.

“Please tell me you’re not dead on a ditch somewhere,” he said, his voice tight.

 I thought about how I would respond and decided to just be myself. I would deal with any backlash. “And this is what, exactly? My ghost calling you to tell you which one?” I replied sarcastically.

“Oh, thank god. You’re fine.”

 I felt the churning in my stomach ease slightly. “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t get to answer your calls earlier. The first time I was driving and the second time I was talking to my grandma.”

 He we quiet for a minute. “I have so many things I want to say to you right now,” he muttered.

 “Say them,” I prompted.

“What the hell were you thinking?! Just taking off and not telling me where you were going! Don’t you know how worried I was? Where in the world are you? Dani called me saying you were ignoring her. I thought you two had plans to go pick up your dresses for the album release party. I don’t even know what’s going on with you these days, between the drinking and whatever drugs you’re doing-it’s like I don’t even know you anymore. And I wish you trusted me enough to tell me what happened, but you clearly don’t,” he took a deep breath and I brushed away the tears that had fallen.

 Fake me had screwed up big time.

“Harry-“

“I’m not done,” he said, his tone a little softer now and I had a feeling that the angrier part was over.

“Okay, sorry.”

“I wish you would have waited for me. You know I love going to see your grandmothers. And we could have gone to see my mum and made a vacation out of it,” I waited for him to continue. “Now I’m done.” 

I sniffled reflexively. “Harry. I don’t know where to start. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve been putting you through lately. I know this isn’t what you signed up for. The drinking and partying-it’s done. Ends now. I swear it. I know I’ve probably said that a million times, but this time I mean it. I don’t care how long it will take for me to make this up to you, I’ll do it. And as for what happened, I’m not sure. But as soon as I figure it out, I’ll tell you. I’ll always tell you. And as for where I am, I’m at Gran’s. I didn’t even think about your mom. This was a last minute thing that had to be done. I know that doesn’t help, but it was important,” there was a long pause and I could feel the change in the conversation.

 He was done being mad.

“When are you coming home?” he asked softly and I had no problem imagining him lying in our bed in just his boxers.

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after. I’m not sure yet.”

“I really miss you, Si.”

“I miss you, too,” I replied, only half surprised to find that it was true. I had liked Harry Styles before the wish, but now? I don’t know what I would do without him. And that was the problem. My heart said I was crazy in love but my head said you can’t be in love with someone you just met.

“Are you feeling any better? I know this morning you said you were feeling sick.”

“I’ve actually been sick all day. That’s part of the reason I came here. They have all these crazy Romanian remedies. I can’t even keep water down. So, maybe it’s a good thing I’m not there so I don’t get you sick, too,” I said, stifling a yawn.

“You should get ready for bed,” he said.

“All done. I’m in my pajamas, which I believe is actually one of your shirts and a pair of boy shorts.”

“Mmm. You’re so mean to me,” he sighed.

 I snuggled down under the covers and turned off the lights. “You love when I’m mean to you,” I teased, surprised at how normal joking with him felt.

“I wish you hadn’t left. I really miss you.”

“I’ll be home soon. There was just something I had to do here. I know it doesn’t make sense, Harry and I’m sorry,” I closed my eyes, relaxing to the sound of him breathing.

“It’s okay. You can make it up to me when you get home,” I smiled. “What can I do to help, baby?”

“Stay on the phone with me? You’re making me feel better,” I said honestly.

“How am I supposed to say no to that?”

“Tell me what you did with Liam today,” I said, getting into my favorite sleeping position.

 He began talking and I drifted off to the sound of his perfect voice.

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The Pinnae Flower Chapter 1

Masterlist

The Fifth Pinnae Book???

People seem to want to know my opinion on Raz Keeran’s soon-to-be-published fifth and final book in the Pinnae series. So, I’m gonna give it to them.

I know Pinnies—fairies and spirits alike—are freaking out. Who wouldn’t? I’m freaking out right now, sitting up in my bed, nursing a cup of tea and writing this blog post. But I’m not freaking out for the same reasons everyone else is freaking out about.

I’m freaking out because I want to know what’s going to happen in the fifth and final book. We never knew there would be five books in the series, only four. However, Raz Keeran stated on his Twitter that five books in his series was always the plan. It wasn’t unprecedented. So, it’s not a money-grab like some people think.

Also, I’d like to point out (or, more specifically, my friend Logan pointed out to me) that there is no actual proof that Raz Keeran is going to kill off Parisa and Arel. I don’t know where that rumour started but, on Raz’s official sites and social media, it doesn’t say anything about killing the two main characters from the previous four books!

I know that the summary for Pinnae: Spelunca that Raz gave us is pretty nerve-wracking. I mean, come on Raz! We need to kill now what this last book is going to be about! His exact tweet says this:

“A short summary of PS:

It will not have Arel and Parisa in it but will focus entirely on a new MC. Fairies and sprites will not have a major role either.”

Thanks for that hint, Raz.

But anyway, with some sleuthing with Logan, we managed to headcanon what this last book will be about:

Number 1. It will probably be about dragons. I mean, this is pretty obvious I think. Dragons were mentioned in the previous books. Also, in PM and PE, their titles are the names of the fairy and sprite villages: Magus and Exsul. This is obvious latin and anyone could put those words into Google Translate and find the words “magical” and “outcast”/”banished person”. The latin of Spelunca is “cave”. Where do dragons live? Exactly. A cave.

Number 2. We’ll figure out who took the pinnae flower. Raz never did answer the question as to why the dragons stole the pinnae flower (I know Raz never did say the dragons actually did take the flower but it’s pretty much canon by now. Unless some fairy or sprite rubbed glitter on a dragon scale).

Number 3. Raz also NEVER TOLD US WHO FREAKING KILLED SIDNEY. I know some people think that maybe it wasn’t a person but I’m not buying it. Raz wouldn’t kill off that character and then say “oh, he died of a heart attack” or “he died by glitter suffocation”. No. Sidney died at the hands of another person. Who, you may ask? We’ll find out in PS, we’re sure.

Number 4. We’ll find out why Arel’s little sister, Kaida, was in that last scene. We’re sure it wasn’t a vision or some weird magical hallucination. Kaida was there at the battle. Sure, she vanished in, how Raz put it, “a blink of an eye” but do you know how that could have happened? Oh, I don’t know. Magic?

Which brings us to Number 5. Kaida, Logan and I think, is going to be the new MC. We both think it won’t be a full-fledged magical character like a sprite, fairy, or dragon, so human (or at least half-human) will probably be the main character. I mean, why else would Raz add that tidbit about Kaida there if they didn’t plan on using this character in the first place?

So, yeah. These are five things Logan and I think will happen in PS. I’m not mad at Raz for making a fifth book. Sure, the ending of PTNE was pretty good and cry worthy but there is just so much Raz hasn’t answered. Something tells me we’re in for a big surprise.

No one was expecting that bloodbath at the end of PTNE and I think Raz might be preparing us for something darker. The first four books might be about cute fairies and sprites but this last book, we know, is not going to be focused on them.

Thanks for reading my loyal plebeians.

Prince Roman Falco

~~~

Roman read through his post once again before hitting the “publish” button. Then, he heard the familiar whoosh as the post went onto his blog, “The Prince’s Crown”. His blog was his most prized work. A blog—his blog—with a massive and loyal following.

While he started writing posts about musical theatre first, it slowly morphed into a Raz Keeran blog dedicated to Raz’s most famous series: the Pinnae series about fairies and sprites. He still did other posts like everyday life posts and still about theatre. But he was known famously for his Raz Keeran posts. Though, he couldn’t give all the credit to himself. As much as he wanted to, most of his fame admittedly came from his best friend since high school, Logan Holmes.

Logan was incredible with thinking up theories and backing them up with the most forgettable quote from the series. And, amazingly, they usually made sense. Logan also edited all of his posts to make sure he used correct grammar and spelling and sourced everything well.

Logan was not an avid Pinnae series reader or a, as the fandom called themselves, the Pinnies. And Roman could understand that. Logan wasn’t into fantasy worlds with fairies and sprites. He liked mysteries and non-fiction and something that puzzled his mind.

Roman constantly teased about Logan’s last name. Holmes. As in the famous fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes.

With some persuading on Roman’s part, he had managed to get Logan to pick up the Pinnae series. There had been only three books out at the time and Logan had read them in three days. One 700 paged book a day. And Logan was working at the university on those three days. It was like he ate them up and gained the knowledge inside them.

While Logan still wasn’t a full-on Pinnie, he enjoyed the book and had respect for Raz Keeran. “That author can sure write a fantasy novel.” Logan had said after he had finished the fourth book.

Roman watched as his blog post began to be read. His first and most loyal plebeian, an unknown face under the name “theazureflower” commented first, like usual.

Amazing read Roman! Tell Logan that he did a fantastic job! I feel as though this fifth book will not be like any others. And not just because it’s the last book in the series! Your headcanons always seem to make perfect sense! (◕ ˬ ◕✿)

Roman grinned and pressed “reply”.

Glad you liked it! I’ll definitely tell Logan your praise when I see him next!

Roman finally closed his laptop and stood up. He stretched his back and wrists as he made his way to the kitchen for a snack.

He loved Raz Keeran’s series. Maybe some would call it childish for a 25 year old to read such a fantasy novel, but he didn’t care. He had been called many things in life and childish was definitely the one he preferred.

The only thing that really bothered him was that he didn't know who Raz Keeran was. No one did. Raz wrote under a penname and had, so far, not been found out by the public. There was little known about Raz. All Roman and the public knew was that Raz lived in a small town in the USA. No one even knew what gender Raz was. They were completely anonymous and Roman wished he knew who Raz was.

It would be an incredible feat. It would be in magazines, on blogs, in the news! POPULAR BLOGGER UNCOVERED THE MYSTERY BEHIND AUTHOR RAZ KEERAN. He would be famous! It was a secret dream of his to find out Raz’s identity. He knew a lot of people frowned down upon those who wanted to figure it out. They said that if Raz wanted to be found out, they would have shown themselves long ago. They said it was Raz’s own, private, business.

But that still didn’t stop Roman’s dream. He wanted to find Raz. The first one to find Raz. Before anyone else did. He knew there were other people trying to find them. Most of them were large news corporations who could allow that much time spent looking for clues.

But Roman had something that the news corporations didn’t have. He had Logan Holmes.

Roman had hinted at the idea of Logan helping him search for Raz plenty of times. In conversations, in texts, anytime he could speak to Logan. But Logan refused. He had the same opinion as most Pinnies—that trying to find Raz was an invasion of privacy and was wrong.

But Roman’s counter argument was always “but Raz puts themself in the spotlight, they should be in the public. It was their choice to write the Pinnae series.”

However, Logan, always the intellectual, would say “but it was Raz’s choice to stay out of the public eye. You can’t dictate another person’s choice to either stay out of the brutal views of the public eye or put themselves in the limelight where they would no longer have the privacy they want.”

Roman sighed as he opened his cabinet, taking out some crackers and getting some cheese from the fridge. He was sure that if Logan helped him find Raz, they would be able to find them. Easy peasy.

These few months were the perfect time to try to find Raz, too. It was coming up on summer vacation and Logan was taking his summer vacation too. They would both be free from work to travel to wherever Raz lived and find him before their time would be up and they’d have to go back to work.

Roman cut up his cheese in little pieces, humming to himself. Maybe he should phone over to Logan’s house and see what’s up later. Maybe today would be the day he would convince Logan to help him find Raz.

~~~

Logan looked down at his computer screen, reading the picture of theazureflower’s favourite passage from the whole Pinnae series written by Raz Keeran. theazureflower did this every time they messaged each other. He must have at least 10 different favourite scenes in the Pinnae series. Not that Logan was complaining. The passage he sent Logan was from the first book, Pinnae: Forests and Flowers.

Sidney looked absolutely terrifying. The other sprites seemed to think the same too for they made sure to keep a good distance between them and Sidney. His hair was a curly dark red and his eyes were haunting—a smoky grey and golden flecks, sunk deep into his face. He seemed almost impossibly skinny—skinnier than the sprite queen herself.

He was the only one who had a dark grey cape wrapped snugly around his neck with a hood. Most of the sprites had short sleeved shirts on of varying colours. It was like Sidney was a dark stormcloud amidst a large rainbow.

But Sidney didn’t seem to mind the obvious difference between him and the other sprites.

“Hi!” Arel said, looking at Sidney with a toothy smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I like your cape.”

A couple nearby sprites seemed astonished that Arel was even speaking to Sidney and I had to nudge Arel in the side. “They’re staring at us!” I hissed.

Arel looked at me. It was almost a confused look. “Why does it matter? Besides, we’re humans Parisa. Or,” his eyebrows drew down, “at least half human”. He shrugged and turned back to Sidney. I huffed and crossed my arms.

Sidney gave a curt, tight-lipped, smile to Arel. “Thanks. I made it myself.”

“Wow! I wish I could make my own clothes! Normally my mom just buys it at the store.” Arel rambled kindly, making me even irritated.

“That sprite is constantly wearing that stupid cape,” a sprite next to me sighed, climbing onto a branch near my ear. I turned to see a female sprite with bright purple hair. I think Titania introduced her as Mauve. She was frowning deeply. “Once,” she said more quietly, “me and a couple other sprites tried to pull that thing off.”

I looked at her and glanced back to where Arel and Sidney were now having a conversation about leather. “And? What happened?” I asked quietly, urging her to go on.

Mauve shivered just slightly and I was afraid she would fall off the branch. “Let’s just say no one saw him for a whole month. Rumour has it he was exiled.”

“Was there anything you found?” I asked, cocking my head to the side, keeping Sidney and Arel in my peripheral view. “Underneath his cape?”

Mauve shook her head vigorously, her purple hair shaking with it. “Didn’t even get that close to him…” she trailed off and crossed her arms tightly.

Mauve glanced over at Sidney and Arel and I followed her gaze.

They were both laughing silently, as if they’d known each other for eons.

Logan liked Sidney’s introduction too. While the sulky, dark, character was often a cliché there was just...something about Sidney’s character that made him think there was a reason for the cape—a reason for his death in the fourth book. He wasn’t just any morally grey character who would no doubt get an arc in the last book.

But, then again, maybe it wouldn’t happen. Logan had been wrong before. Raz had pleasantly surprised him in the fourth book. He had thought that Raz wouldn’t include such a bloody war. It seemed more like a children’s book than a young adult novel and the blood and descriptions really threw him for a loop.

That was what made Logan like Raz. It was unlike any YA novel Roman had made him read. While some things were alike—fantasy universes, action and conflict and romance—The Pinnae series was something else entirely.

It had hints of dark but children could still read it. It was hidden so well that Logan almost didn’t catch it himself.

theazureflower: I just love sidney’s character!!!

theazureflower: And arel and parisa’s and mauve and lewis’!!!

Logan grinned down at his screen and rolled his eyes.

Lewis’_Journal: You love all the characters. I don’t think you’d be able to choose a favourite character if your life depended on it.

theazureflower: Guilty is charged ;)

theazureflower: But they are all so amazing and raz does such a good job at making their characters feel so...real!!!!

theazureflower: I mean, none of the characters are perfect and their flaws don’t seem like an afterthought. They just...ASDFGHJKL! I relate to all of them all at once!

Logan loved this about theazureflower. He was always so excitable and happy and reminded him of—no. He wouldn't think about him now. Not when he was talking to theazureflower and having a good time.

He did agree with theazureflower, though. Raz’s characters all seemed to be real characters—save that most of them were magical creatures who could fly and speak to animals.

theazureflower: What character do you relate to most???

Lewis’_Journal: Definitely Lewis. I feel like he’s almost exactly like me.

Logan didn’t want to delve too deep into Lewis’ character with theazureflower. It felt almost...too personal to talk about with an online friend he didn’t even know the first name to.

Lewis, Logan felt, was the perfect embodiment of himself.

Lewis was a fairy who was mentioned briefly in the first book before being introduced more thoroughly in the second book, Pinnae: Magus. He was intelligent and smart and did not speak much with the other fairies. Logan liked to think he was the opposite of Sidney to a degree—the outcast character but on the fairy side.

But Lewis accompanied Parisa in her quest to find the missing Pinnae flower. He was, at first, silent and incredibly stoic. It was only when Parisa brought her laments that she was missing Arel that they really bonded.

During that chapter the reader finds that Lewis has a brother. While Logan doesn’t have a brother himself, he can still empathize with Lewis’ emotions connected to his gone missing brother.

theazureflower didn’t reply for a long moment. Logan didn’t think about it too much.

That was when the phone rang. He reached for the phone and groaned at the caller ID. Roman. Roman Falco. His co writer of the popular blog, “The Prince’s Crown”. Logan’s name was never mentioned in the About page but Roman mentioned him enough that almost all the readers knew Logan helped write Roman’s posts.

What really annoyed Logan, though, was that Roman was a, rather scatterbrained and b, was obsessed with the author of the Pinnae series, Raz Keeran.

While scatterbrained was fine (it was only the fact that Roman never had a schedule for his posts and they always came out on random days at random times), it was Roman’s obsession that was borderline stalkerish and just plain wrong.

“Let the author live their life!” Logan had said late last week when Roman had asked him to figure out where Keeran lived for the thousandth time. “If Keeran wants to stay anonymous, that’s their business, not yours.”

Logan was hoping Roman would eventually drop it. But, Logan knew his friend well. Roman was very strong minded and when he wanted something, he would try his darned hardest to get his idea to become a reality.

Logan put the phone to his ear after heaving a deep sigh. “Hello?”

“Logan—“

“—No, Roman. I’ve already told you I’m not going to stalk Keeran and find out where they live so you can unveil them in your blog.” Logan said crossly.

It was silent on the other end for a split second. “...It’s your blog too, ya know.” Roman’s voice finally said. “You help me with all my posts.”

“But you started the blog.” Logan pointed out. If Logan were to have a blog, it wouldn’t be about a book series (no matter how good of a series they were) and he would definitely not call it “The Prince’s Crown”.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean anything.” Roman said emphatically.

Logan didn’t know why he was arguing with Roman. Besides, Logan and Roman didn’t get paid for the blog. Sure, sometimes they got ads on their blog but, more often than not, “The Prince’s Crown” to Logan was more of a hobby.

Roman seemed to be thinking about the same thing as Logan as he immediately dropped the argument. “Anyway. Logan, you’ll never believe what I just read!”

Logan crossed his arms, squatting the phone between his ear and shoulder. He raised an eyebrow. “What did you find now, Roman? Something about Keeran on another sourceless blog that only relies on speculation?”

“No—well...yes.”

Logan pushed up his glasses and took a breath. “Okay, Roman, what did you find?”

One of Roman’s “brilliant” ideas to find information about Keeran was to search up their name or something about the Pinnae series and then go to the very last Google page.

Most so-called “interviews” with Keeran and “Raz Keeran Revealed!!!” posts were fake and were in the last pages of Google for a reason.

“There’s this new interview! Speaking to Raz Keeran over email!”

“—Literally every interview with Keeran is over email,” Logan said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No one has heard Keeran’s voice. No one knows what gender Keeran is either, that’s the whole point of email.”

“Anyway,” Roman continued. “It said that they managed to learn a couple things about Raz. It said that they managed to weasel out of them that they go to this cafe every morning. And!! Listen to this! It says that Raz lives somewhere around the coast and their town does annual art exhibits around their streets!”

Logan’s back stiffened and he instantly began scrolling backwards in his conversation with theazureflower. “Art exhibits in the streets?” He repeated. “What is this blog anyway?”

“‘The Pinnae Flower’.” Roman replied. “Some tiny blog run by this girl.”

“Isn’t that the one who also said Keeran was some big corporation?” Logan asked, still scrolling. He was into last year’s conversation with theazureflower.

“...Well...yeah. But still!”

Then, Logan found it. A conversation he had had with theazureflower two years ago. June. Almost exactly two years earlier.

theazureflower: I can’t wait for this weekend!!!

Lewis’_Journal: How come? What’s happening over there?

theazureflower: There’s this thing my town does

theazureflower: It’s kinda of like this art thing

theazureflower: Artists in our town do some art and over the weekend they hang them everywhere in the town

theazureflower: Like a scavenger hunt but you find wonderful art everywhere!

Logan wasn’t sure if any other USA town did an art exhibit like theazureflower. It felt odd for Keeran, though. If their town and theazureflower’s were the ones to do an art exhibit, then wouldn’t Keeran be more secretive with it?

But when Logan searched it up. There were a couple of small towns that did something like what theazureflower explained.

There were multiple towns but none of them were theazureflower’s home town. Logan knew theazureflower’s hometown, Mayflower Town, and it wasn’t there.

“Logan?” Roman asked, making him jump. He had forgotten Roman was still on the line. “You still there? What are you doing?”

“I think…” Logan said, trailing off. He straightened his spine. “I think you should leave Keeran alone.” He hung up before Roman could say anything else.

Logan went back to the computer and theazureflower.

...What if theazureflower and Keeran lived in the same town?

Logan and theazureflower sometimes talked about meeting each other summer. Maybe…

He quickly shut the computer. No. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t try to unveil Keeran. It would go against all of his morals. It was wrong. Just plain wrong.

But Roman would want to travel with him—they always did in the summer. And if Logan told Roman about Keeran and theazureflower, Roman wouldn’t leave that town until he found out Keeran’s identity.

Unless...what if theazureflower was Keeran?

No. That was impossible. Keeran explicitly said in previous email interviews they did not read theories about the Pinnae series because they didn’t want to be accused of plagiarism. “The Prince’s Crown” was just about all theories and ideas.

No. Logan couldn’t go against his morals. He wasn’t a hypocrite. Logan did not want to be the one to put a spotlight on Raz Keeran.

Logan got out of bed and poured himself a cup of coffee in a cup that Roman had given him last year for his birthday—a Sherlock Holmes mug that said “It’s elementary, my dear Watson”.

It was going to be a long day. He could feel it.

~~~

Roman loves to teach. Children were always bursting with excitement and ideas. Roman was glad he was a drama teacher—he couldn’t imagine teaching children math or science.

It was nearing the end of school and since elementary schools had no exams, he didn’t have to do major correcting like Logan did.

Thank goodness.

By the end of the day, Roman was feeling electricity running through him. He didn’t think he could go home and do something productive and static right now.

So, he called up the only person he wanted to see. Logan. Maybe they could go to the mall or go out for an extra early supper.

“Hello?” Logan asked from the other end. His voice had a sharp edge to it.

Roman put his phone on speaker and began pulling out of the school’s parking lot. “Want to chillax this afternoon? I just got out of the school. I can come pick you up. I don’t think I can stay at home on this beautiful June afternoon.”

Logan didn’t reply for a long time and Roman had to check his phone to make sure he hadn’t hung up on him.

“As long as you don’t bring up trying to find Raz.” Logan said bitterly. “I’m sick of you always talking about it.”

Roman didn’t even think. “Of course. No talk about finding Raz. Got it.”

“Good.” Logan said. “I’ll just pack some stuff to correct and I’ll be out at the front of the university in five minutes.”

Before Roman could protest (who brought stuff to correct on an outing?), Logan had hung up.

Roman got to the university in less than three minutes and, soon after, Logan walked out. Roman glanced at the dash and grinned. Exactly five minutes since their phone call.

“As always, very punctual.” Roman commented as Logan pulled himself into the passenger seat.

“Why are you surprised?” Logan asked, buckling himself in and putting his massive canvas bag at his feet. “I am always punctual.”

Roman grinned as he put the keys in the ignition. “So, where do you want to eat? We could go to—“

Logan rolled his eyes. “Why do you always ask? We always go to the same place.”

Roman shrugged. “Just making sure. What if you suddenly become sporadic and choose some place different?”

“I’m not messing with tradition.” Logan protested. “We’ve been going to the same place since we were in high school.” His eyebrows knitted together. “And when have I ever been sporadic?”

“Well, there was that one time,” Roman chuckled. “When you signed up for the soccer team on a whim.”

“I need exercise.” Logan protested. “The place where I normally walked went under construction—“

“Sure, sure, sure.” Roman grinned as he pulled up to Fairy Cakes and Fantasy Books.

The whole building was decked out in pink and glitter with fairy statues near the door, greeting customers.

The building was squat between a law firm and a grass lot that seemed to permanently hold a “For Sale” sign beneath it’s uncut grass.

It was far away from most of the city and pretty secluded.

Fairy Tales and Fantasy Books was a cafe and library all wrapped into one. It was mostly booked out for birthday parties and for special events.

Normally, it was empty. Like now.

“I can’t believe this place is still open.” Logan muttered. “And still looks pretty okay.”

Roman stepped out of the car and Logan did the same. The air felt thicker even though they were nowhere near the center of the city.

As Roman opened the door, a bell above tinkled and Logan patted the head of a statue of a fairy clad in pink and doused with a fine glitter.

“Ah! Roman and Logan! My favourite two customers!” The lady behind the counter exclaimed. She had her dyed blonde hair up in a bun and was wearing a green dress like Tinkerbell.

“Good afternoon Breena!” Roman called out, striding over to the desk where all the baked goods were.

Logan was immediately drawn to the books and he began to gravitate towards them.

The books were in the corner and the wooden bookshelves were covered in pink glitter and sparkly fairy stickers. Logan’s eyes read the spines.

Most of them were fantasy novels. Hence the name Fairy Cakes and Fantasy Books.

Logan recognized the Harry Potter series, the Lord of the Rings, the Chronicles of Narnia, and the Six of Crows duology. And, in the very middle, was the Pinnae series.

They were the American version. The cover was a glossy pinnae flower with an old time-y map as it’s background. They were all hardcovers.

The first book in the series, Pinnae: Forests and Flowers, was the only book here at the cafe that he had read. All the others he had bought himself.

Scrawled throughout the pages, however, young children had marked it with crayons and the pages were dog-eared again and again, some pages were missing corners altogether. It infuriated Logan to no end.

So, after he had finished the first book, he had bought the entire box set which included a complementary map of the world Raz had created.

“So, what’ll it be?” Breena asked, gesturing to all the pastries and cakes behind the glass.

Roman leaned against the counter, clicking his tongue while making his decision. “I think I’ll have the usual, Breena. Thank you very much.”

Breena grinned and slid open the glass, taking out three churros which had been rolled in pink, edible, glitter. The card next to them read “Fairy Wands”.

“And you Logan?” Breena asked.

Logan came up to the glass and peered inside. He’d been seeing the same baked goods since high school yet he could never really choose “a usual” like Roman.

“I think I’ll have two of those Fairy Cakes,” Logan finally decided, pointing to the powdered sugar topped Berliners.

Breena nodded and put two of the Berliners on a plate.

Once they had paid, Logan and Roman found themselves in their usual spot—in the back corner next to the fairy book display which included a couple of the Rainbow Magic series, the Artemis Fowl series, and The Spiderwick Chronicles.

“I literally love this place,” Roman sighed as he bit into his churro. “It always seems so magical to me.”

Honestly? Logan didn’t see it. All he saw was a cafe-library covered in pink and glitter and fairy pictures and drawings hung on the walls.

But he loved it all the same. Just not for the reasons Roman had.

He loved how the books were all Tetris-ed in the bookshelves perfectly. It was like an oddly satisfying video.

He loved Breena’s desserts even though he didn’t have much of a sweet tooth.

And lastly, the fact that it was almost always empty. While Breena probably hated that there wasn’t a lot of business, Logan was perfectly content eating Berliners with Roman in an empty cafe with books.

They sat in comfortable silence as they munched on their treats.

As always, Roman was the first to talk. “Guess what I saw today.”

“What?”

“I saw one of my students, Matilda, reading the first Pinnae book! I think she’s going to do her novel presentation on it too!” Roman grinned from ear to ear.

“I, as well, saw a student in my astrology seminar with a t-shirt with the pinnae flower on it.” Logan said, remembering the student and his green shirt.

Roman finished his churros in record time, Logan just starting his second Berliner.

He could feel the pressure building up in Roman’s voicebox, about to ask the inevitable question. Logan knew Roman couldn’t refrain from it. He never knew why he always made Roman promise not to bring it up when Logan knew for a fact Roman could never bite his tongue.

Roman shifted in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “Logan…” he hesitated. “I know that I promised not to say anything about it but...could you please reconsider trying to find Raz?”

And there it was. Logan sighed and shoved the rest of the Berliner in his mouth to keep from screaming. He didn’t think he could handle Roman right now.

Roman twiddled his fingers like a child as he waited for Logan to chew and swallow the Berliner. “I just,” he sighed, “you’re so good at mysteries and stuff and—“

Logan swallowed and angrily shook his head. “No,” he hissed, trying not to raise his voice and alert Breena. “Roman, I’ve told you every single time you’ve asked: no. I will not find Raz for you. There is a reason Raz is anonymous.”

He didn’t know why right now, in a glittery cafe-library, he was finally breaking. After years and years of Roman asking, he had never really gotten mad or angry with him. Logan would just shake his head or logically explain why finding Raz was wrong, hoping it would get into Roman’s brain and he’d finally realize that his dream was unethical. Maybe it was pent up anger from all the years.

A small part in Logan’s brain reminded him of his theory that theazureflower and Raz might live in the same town.

He shook it away. Not now, he told himself.

Roman shrunk for a split second in his chair before seeming to come to his senses and lean forward and straighten his spine, meeting Logan’s height. “I understand why it’s wrong but don't you see it? Our blog could get so many new readers and we could become famous!”

“I’m not interested in becoming famous, Roman. Maybe that’s why I empathize with Raz so much.” Logan snapped back. “I’m not finding Raz for you.”

Roman wasn’t giving up that easily. And neither was Logan. He didn’t know how the two of them—both rather hotheaded—became friends, to be honest. Or, actually, stayed friends after all this time.

“What if—”

“—No, Roman. I won’t take any of your compromises. You’re atrocious at keeping promises. Like this one.” Logan inturpted, not in the mood for one of Roman’s compromises. “Oh! But what if we found Raz but didn’t tell anyone?” or “What if we found Raz and hinted at it on our blog to grab followers?”. Logan was sick of them. Roman would never keep Raz’s identity a secret after he knew, Logan was sure of it.

“This summer is perfect, though, Logan!” Roman exclaimed wildly. “It’s summer and you’ve got a couple of weeks from last summer we didn’t use!”

Logan gritted his teeth and brought his hands into fists. “Roman, for the last time, I am not—absolutely will not—find Raz Keeran for you.” His voice was loud and Logan prayed Breena wasn’t in earshot.

Roman slouched in his chair and sulked, rolling his eyes. “I bet I could find someone on Craigslist that could find Raz quicker than you anyway. They can be my new best friend.”

Logan felt his anger rise and rise until it consumed him. “Craigslist?” He repeated. “Craigslist?” He pounded a fist on the table, the plates slightly jumping off the table. He was better than any random person on Craigslist.

Logan heard the words come out of his mouth before he could logically go over the consequences. “Oh yeah? You think, Roman? Well pack your bags and book us two plane tickets to Mayflower Town. We’ve got some sleuthing to do.”

[dracota]

Rant about the word smudging.

It’s a white marketing scheme to sell stolen goods.

Because holy crap does no one remember that in the 90’s the original term for it was a word that started with a ‘ch’ and was very long? I remember this because the little tags had this name on them with the phrase “also called ‘smudging’-“ with more reasoning after it. (The word smudge is French in origin and is probably a bad translation. Smoldering seems like it would have been more accurate of a discription/translation. I wonder if it happened during what was called the French and Indian war in US history?)

So apparently white people couldn’t pronounce the real & original name the kits were called and thus couldn’t or wouldn’t ask for it because they didn’t want to embarrass themselves by saying it wrong. So people were not buying the kits. People can’t make money off stolen goods from closed cultures if no one buys them.

New age shop keepers dropped the original name and just called it smudging. Because they couldn’t sell it otherwise. I was literally told that by a new age shop owner who was white. (I don’t think I have ever been to a new age store that wasn’t owned by a white person.)

Yes I’m white & no I couldn’t pronounce it either as a teenager & I can’t even try now because I cannot find the name anywhere. I never bought a kit because I only wanted the abalone shell & I wasn’t going to spend $60-whatever on it for a large shell with what I thought was incense that I was allergic to. The tiny kits that had shells that were about 2-3 inches long cost $32 each. At this time I had seen abalone shells that size sold a seaside gift stores for $2-$3 each, so no I was not wasting money like that.

And then I found out about it being stolen and then that the name was lost. I have a note somewhere with the name from when I wrote it down once. I even found ithe name online a few years ago on an old geocity site. No idea beyond starting with CH and it being very long. This was still before you could take pictures with your phone.

It still bothers me that the Name was lost. It was lost because people wanted to make money and their pricey item wasn’t selling because nobody could ask for it because they couldn’t pronounce the name of it.

Like literally right away (and this was before texting or the internet was the way it is today) it became super popular because of marketing changing the name. An easy name means it’s easy to ask for.

Additional frustration for me is that this happened when people were pushing for Native artist recognition. At least in some areas of the west coast where I lived. I remember in the 80’s when I was little it was super important in Oregon because no one wanted knockoffs. This was still way before cellphones were a thing. So you couldn’t spot check of the local artist was truly local and you had to trust the little shops if you couldn’t buy directly from an artist at their own booth/shop. I remember people trying more after the Free Willie movie first came out.

And then The Craft came out in the 90’s and people started looking for the incense with the pretty shell and how is it pronounced again? I assume that because people were starting to try and support Native creators to be legitimate that they assumed that the new age stores were sourcing the items from Native creators. Because that is what the new age stores I went to implied.

Yeah. My frustration with knowing that a Name was lost because of greedy white people wanting to make a quick buck on top of lies and theft.

It’s a white marketing scheme to sell stolen goods.

It’s a white marketing scheme to sell stolen goods.

It’s a white marketing scheme to sell stolen goods.

If the fact that it’s stolen goods or that it’s stolen goods from a closed culture is not stopping people? I honestly don’t expect that finding out it’s a marketing scheme will stop people. People tend to avoid things when they find out about marketing schemes and I hope it helps to make people realize how horrible it is. But I can’t get my hopes up for a sudden change any more than I can get my hopes up that that ‘ch’ name will be found again.

It feels like if people started correcting others with the correct name then it would turn people off of it a bit more. Because people don’t like to be told they are wrong.

“Oh no, there’s no such thing as smudging! It sounds like you’re actually talking about ‘this’ and it was stolen from a closed culture! See?”

Lots of people loose interest in things when treated as such. So why not this? It’s how things ‘fall out of fashion’. Just add a “well, actually” when they push back at the right time to really drive in the bad feelings and soon people will associate that feeling with the word.

It’s like the people that steal from closed cultures don’t like being told their wrong. But they also don’t want to used the wrong name for things that they are using to seem like they know what they are doing or talking about. Correcting them is a big hit.

An untranslated original name is one way to do that. Then if the word smudging get used in place of it? There the chance to correct them.

Finding an original untranslated name is problematic phrase in itself. There are hopefully many. But lots of Native people used the word smudging today. So it’s a super problematic thing for me to suggest. I just don’t have better words for why I am suggesting it.

It’s also not a cure all and I will assume other people have mentioned trying this. I just think as a white suburbanite that has seen things change because of names that this would be effective. It’s giving people ammunition for shutting down assholes in a polite way. Make websites and blog posts about it to take back the google searches. If marketing helped make this monster then it can help kill it. Grassroots marketing and word of mouth is a bit more trusted.

Tiny secondary story but in art there is a smudging stick that it just rolled up paper for smudging lines for shading and such. No burning and it is super messy when using charcoal. Please imagine the dual confusion of teenage me happily handing one to a friend that asked if anyone knew how to smudge & if they had a smudging stick with them and having no idea why my friend had no idea wtf I was handing them. They also look like weird joints but I didn’t know that at the time. I also was so confused about smudging to clean things because it did not compute.

[wandering-----wonderings]

A glimpse inside everyones favorite hyperpolyglot, Sydney Bristow. (Yes, I childishly cut Danny out of the picture because I prefer Sydney with Noah, but I like this picture, so there you go.)

Let's start this off with a quick quote from Recruited: I speak five languages (six if you count pig latin. From Shadowed, we also know this: for SD-6 agents, mastering five or six languages was the bare minimum. So right out of the gate, before she even starts working at SD-6, she's already met the 'bare minimum' requirement. Sort of; I'm not sure if SD-6 would count English - or pig latin for that matter.

My current wondering is: what five languages (six including pig latin) did she know before starting SD-6? English would be 1, obviously, and Pig Latin would make two. I'm assuming she's counting her Spanish and Mandarin college electives when she said that (unless she already spoke those languages and just took them as electives to get more of a background on them), so that would be 3 and 4. So what were 5 and 6?

Truthfully, I have no idea. Wikipedia has a list of her speaking 30 languages: English, Russian, German, Greek, Dutch, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Norwegian, Swedish, Romanian, Hungarian, Hebrew, Uzbek, Arabic, Persian, Urdu, Indonesian, Cantonese, Mandarin, Japanese, Korean, Hindi, Vietnamese, Polish, Serbian, Czech, Ukrainian, and Bulgarian.

Now this is completely a supposition, but the Wikipedia list doesn't mention Latin - it doesn't mention pig latin, either - but I would think that one of the languages she knew before coming into SD-6 would be Latin; it just ... sorta seems like it would be the first language she would learn with her being as studious as she is since, while being considered a dead language, it's still quite present in today's world, especially in the sciences. So my guess for language-number-5 would be Latin.

The sixth language is more of a long-shot. Seriously. In the pilot episode, in the SD-6 briefing room, we hear this:

Sydney: ''What is that? Hieratic?'' Sloane: ''Good try. That's what I thought. Actually, it's demotic. Taking notes in ancient languages was just one of Muller's quirks.''

A quick Google search showed this:

Now, she obviously doesn't know Hieratic or Demotic, otherwise she would've been able to translate right off. However, she was able to recognize it. So my theory is that she either learned the 'parent language' or one of the other 'child languages'. None of them are on the Wikipedia list. Most kids are interested in hieroglyphics but usually not enough to actually learn them (at least, such was the case with me), but I think we can all agree that when it comes to languages Sydney is a bit different - in a good way. So my long-shot-of-a-guess is that her 6th language is 'Egyptian'. Granted, she'd been at the agency for about seven years when we see her in the pilot episode so she could have learned it within that time.

Now that we've done that, let's review her language history in the books (at least, all of the one that I can remember off the top of my head). (I don't think she spoke in anything but English in Sister Spy, Father Figure or Skin Deep, but I may be wrong.)

Recruited: she's taking Spanish and Mandarin as electives, and she also says that she can speak a total of six languages (prior to being recruited)(see above). Spanish is also used later in the book. A Secret Life: she's was trying to teach herself Russian. French was used in this book, but she couldn't understand it. Disappeared: she had to learn Romanian (which she was distracted and didn't do too well at, but I assume she went back and learned it properly later). She also states that after the events in A Secret Life, she came back to L.A. and learned French as if her life depended on it. Free Fall: had her brushing up on one of her ''better languages'' - French. She was also able to translate an one-sided phone conversation she was eavesdropping on, from Russian. Infiltration: her Russian is described as amazing (and at times she'd been ahead of her SD-6 tutor), she says the Romance languages had been easy to learn (I haven't got a clear answer as to how many there are), Japanese took an impossible amount of concentration, and says it was difficult to keep the Oriental languages straight when she threw Cantonese and Mandarin into the mix (which, she should have already knew a fair bit of Mandarin since, as stated above, it was one of her electives). Vanishing Act: speaks in 'flawless' Dutch. (Also, she asks a woman working in a bookstore if she has any first additions of Chekhov, and when the woman ask if she wants it in English [the book], Sydney says she wants it in Lithuanian. This doesn't necessarily mean she speaks Lithuanian since it was a code phrase and it's not listed in her Wikipedia languages, but maybe she learned at some point.) Shadowed: she had recently brushed up on her Greek, and had learned German at some point.

Think about that for a minute. Did you catch what I did? She was recruited in the fall of her freshman year (a few weeks into the school year) and Free Fall says this happened in September. Shadowed itself happens in October of her sophomore year. Which means, Sydney learned 11+ languages in a year. So, aside from learning stuff for school, learning bank stuff (so she would be able to lie more efficiently to anyone who asked what she did on a daily basis for Credit Dauphine), and learning cool spy stuff and going on missions, she managed to cram in 11+ languages amidst carving out time for a social life with Francie (and a few dates with Noah) in one year's time. At the age of 19 and 20 years old. If you didn't think she was superwoman before, you should now.

Not to mention, that that's just the languages she speaks. While Sydney's trading card lists her languages as ''numerous'', she obviously knows a various amount of codes and ciphers as well; which, to me, counts as a language. We know she knows Morse code (2x18) from her mother's earrings, the Substitution cipher from when her dad encrypted her crossword puzzles (4x12), and Skip Sequencing Cypher Text (2x19) from when she was trying to get a message to Vaughn and an ever-helpful Weiss. That's just the ones I can remember right off, I'm sure she knows quite a few more.

As a side note, on Noah Hicks' trading card, it claims he only speaks three: English, French, and Russian. Oddly enough, the Russian was episode based while the French happened in the books - it's odd because I like to find what's different between the show and novels, but that's something that lines up. I'm sure he knows more languages - as it's said, five or six was the minimum - but it's not stated in the novels, the show, his Wiki page, or his trading card.

((Update: Ok, so two things. One, one the back of her season 3 trading card, it has one of Sydney’s languages as Taiwanese, so I guess that bumps her (known) total to 31 languages. Secondly, I did forget about a language from Vanishing Act; ''... a circle filled with words in what Sydney immediately recognized as Latin.'' Now again, it said she recognized it and not knew it (though, that’s probably the same thing for her), but I feel it’s further evidence supporting my theory.))